Full Circle
by Jainaxox
Summary: They say mental illness is hereditary. Luckily for the Gavin's, the concept of family never held any significance, anyway. Childhood fic centered on Kristoph and Klavier, originally written for the Kink Meme
1. Prologue

"M-Mr. Gavin, you have a visitor!"

The blonde man seated in the large violet chair sighed as he gently placed the book he was reading on the mahogany stand in front of him.

"Mr. DeLite," Kristoph began, watching the red-haired security guard from the corner of his eye. "I believe I have mentioned countless times that I do not wish to speak to any minister attempting to 'save my soul'. I'm not terribly fond of religion, you see."

"This man isn't a priest. At least, I don't think he is. Then again, maybe not all religious officials look the same. I mean after all, times are changing and you always hear on the news how people dress differently than they should and maybe this guy was one of them, but…." The security guard began to trail off, tilting his head to the side and biting his lip. Then, as if catching himself in the act, the guard stood up straighter and stopped his train of thought. "But, umm, anyway, this person really wants to see you and I don't think he'll take no for an answer…so, could you come with me…please?"

Kristoph sighed as his eyes trailed up towards the small window near the top of his cell. Rays of sunlight escaped through the bars, lightly illuminating the towering bookshelf. Picking up the copy of Paradise Lost he set aside earlier, Kristoph made his way towards the shelf and gently placed the book back in its original position.

"Well, I suppose we shouldn't keep this mysterious guest waiting." Kristoph gave the security guard a smile, although he already had a feeling he knew who this unknown "guest" was. After the initial shock, the guard quickly nodded and unlocked the metal gate. After that fateful trial, Mr. Gavin was never cooperative when it came to leaving his cell. If Ron DeLite didn't know any better, he would have said that Mr. Gavin considered the small room some kind of sanctuary.

Mr. DeLite gulped as he led Kristoph past the cells of various inmates towards the visitor's room. Along with being a murderer, Kristoph Gavin was also officially deemed criminally insane by a number of psychologists. As the only guard leading an extremely dangerous and mentally unstable man down the corridors, Mr. DeLite hardly felt at ease. Giving a quick glance behind him, Ron was surprised to see Kristoph staring melancholically at the direction from which they came.

"Mr. DeLite," Kristoph began. Ron gave a small jump and quickly turned to look in front of him.

"Umm, yes?"

"This little visit will not take long, will it? I really must get back to my room. It's been a while since I've ventured outside, and I suppose I'm feeling a bit uncomfortable." Although Kristoph was speaking in the same melodious, almost hypnotic, tone he always used, there was a slight edge in his voice that was not present before.

Ron gave another gulp as he tried to search for the right words. The absolute last thing Ron wanted was to upset a man confirmed to be mentally insane. Although Mr. Gavin was always polite and courteous towards him, there was always a possibility that one day he would just snap.

_And after seeing that video of him in court, _Ron thought_, _giving another glance to the man behind him_, I can't really be blamed for feeling uncomfortable around him. Even if Dessie told me there was nothing to worry about…_

"It really shouldn't be that long, Mr. Gavin. Unless he has something really important to say, which could go on for a while, but I really don't think…" Ron trailed off, biting his lip. Luckily for him, the door to the visitor's room came in view and Ron let out a small sigh of relief.

"Well, I believe this is where we part ways. It was a pleasure speaking to you, Mr. DeLite." Kristoph gave Ron a warm smile, which was more unnerving than relaxing.

"Umm, same here." _Not really… "_I'll be back in ten minutes I guess, unless it goes longer….then I'm not exactly sure when I'll come back…" Ron mumbled. As he turned to leave, Ron's eyes accidently locked with Kristoph's. The security guard quickly let out a small gasp, before quickly turning around and scurrying down the hallway. As he left, Ron felt Kristoph's piercing gaze watching him until he turned the corner.

Ron stopped momentarily to catch his breath._ Ron DeLite, you went undercover as a phantom thief who stole priceless artifacts and never was caught. You can't let some prisoner scare you. You're the one who's supposed to be in charge. _Ron could hear Desiree's voice like she was right there with him.

_But those eyes…_

Ron shivered. He saw something like that once before, seven years ago, in a man he hated to think about.

_Those eyes…they were the eyes of a madman. They had this gleam of insanity in them, I know they did. I can't just be imagining it…_

Ron shivered again, giving a deep breath. Whatever he saw, it was over now_. Until, of course, I have to see him again…why did I even take this job in the first place? Me and my decisions…_

With a sigh, Ron DeLite went about his way, trying to push thoughts of demons with angelic voices and angels with demonic eyes behind him.

X X X X X X

After waiting to make sure the footsteps of the pitiful security guard could not be heard, Kristoph Gavin let out a small chuckle. Every staff member in the whole building was an idiot.

Kristoph put his smooth hands on the metallic doorknob, hesitating to pull it open. This whole thing would probably end up being a complete waste of time, but the sooner he could get this conversation over with, the sooner he could return to his room. If the person waiting for him was who he thought it was, then that security guard would come knocking on his bars, telling him of a visitor, for every day Kristoph did not meet with him.

_How tedious…_

Kristoph Gavin let out a small sigh before turning the knob.


	2. Chapter 1

"Kris, Kris! Where are you?" the calls of the eight-year-old boy reverberated throughout the mansion, bouncing off the bookshelves and into Kristoph Gavin's ears. The fourteen-year- old gave an annoyed sigh as he snapped the book he had out in front of him shut. Peering out from behind the immense mahogany bookshelves, Kristoph spotted the source of all the commotion. When the little boy saw Kristoph looking at him, his face erupted into a grin as he scampered towards his elder brother. Kristoph gave a mental cry of anguish as he realized what was coming. Couldn't the little pest just leave him alone for five seconds?

"Hiya, Kris! I've been looking all over for you! I asked Adelle where you went, but even she didn't know! It's almost like you were trying to hide from me or something!"

"Now, why on earth would I ever do something like that?" Kristoph sighed while rolling his eyes. "And just because Adelle is our maid doesn't mean that she has to monitor my every movement. What is it that you want, Klavier?

"Oh, well, umm," Klavier suddenly got quiet as he shuffled his feet_. You ask for the same thing every night_, Kristoph thought in exasperation. _Just spit it out already._ "I, well, I need you're help again. For my math homework. I really don't get any of that multiplication stuff."

"Why is it that you need my help? Why can't you just ask Adelle. She's intelligent. She can probably help you."_ And once again, _Kristoph thought bitterly_, I say the same thing I do every night. Why do I even bother?_

"I know, I know. I just really want you're help, that's all. Besides, you're the one who always gets angry if I do bad on a quiz. Mama and Adelle don't mind at all. It only makes sense that you should be the one to help me" Klavier beamed, proud of his "flawless" logic.

_Of course Mother doesn't care what grades you get in school. You're perfect in her eyes._

"It's do poorly' on a quiz, Klavier, not do bad'. And fine, I suppose I could help you tonight." Kristoph tried to conceal a smile as Klavier jumped up and down in victory. As much as he disliked the little nuisance, Kristoph did feel a certain satisfaction seeing him pleased like this.

"Okay, let's go up to my room, then! Hurry up!" Klavier bounded through the halls of the mansion, past the oriental carpets, Italian paintings, Ming Dynasty vases and various ornate decorations that adorned that halls of Gavin Manor. Kristoph, much less enthusiastic, trudged behind him, still wondering where Klavier got such boundless energy. Passing the shut doors to the bedrooms, Kristoph stopped momentarily as he heard muffled voices behind his parent's elaborately crafted bedroom door. Two voices could be heard from behind the door: a woman's, and a man's. The woman's voice had a soft, musical quality to it, sounding sweet and pleasant, yet possessing bitter and somewhat spiteful undertones which seeped through the sugary pretext like acid. The man's voice was deep and loud, commanding authority and obedience. They were arguing about something, but Kristoph couldn't tell what it is. All he knew was that the man was winning, like always. He clenched his fists and wanted to open the door to interrupt, but thought better of it and followed his brother up the stairs.

When Kristoph opened his brother's room, Klavier was laying sprawled out on the bed, textbook open in front of him. Moving his legs over the various toys scattered carelessly about the room, Kristoph finally sat next to Klavier on the crimson bedspread.

"Klavier, this room is a complete mess. Does Adelle know about this?"

"But I like it messy! She always wants to clean it, but I always say no."

Kristoph sighed irritably. He was just wasting time with these pointless questions. "So, what is it you need assistance with this time?"

Klavier moved the textbook closer to Kristoph so he could get a better view. "This stuff. It's called multiplication, only I don't really understand how to do it. It's really confusing."

"It may seem challenging at first, but it's really not as difficult as you think. Here, let me see that book." Klavier passed the book to Kristoph, and huddled closer to him. Within minutes, the two boys were solving problems, scribbling down equations on scrap sheets of paper. Klavier was a surprisingly fast learner, and managed to grasp the concept quicker than Kristoph thought he would. After an hour, the two finished all the problems assigned.

"And because two goes into four two times, two times two equals four. Do you see now?" Kristoph asked, peering down at his little brother. From beneath Klavier's messy blonde bangs, the small boys eyes lit up and he nodded.

"Yea, I think I get it now. Thanks!"

Kristoph nodded as he stood up, making his way to the door. "Well, if that's all, I'm going to go back to my reading now. Good night."

"Wait!"

Kristoph turned around to look at his younger brother. "Yes?"

"I, well…"Klavier bit his lip, eyes downcast. "What book is so important anyway?"

"It's called Paradise Lost. It's in English, so you can't read it. Even if you could, you wouldn't like it anyway." Kristoph turned to leave the room once more, but yet again Klavier's call stopped him.

"Why didn't you get a copy in German? And, um, what's it about?"

Kristoph rolled his eyes. These questions were pointless; he just wanted to get back to reading the book already.

"I didn't get a German copy because I wanted to practice my English. And it's about God and the angels, to put it simply."

Klavier grinned as he looked up at Kristoph. "That sounds like a nice book. If it's about God, then maybe Father would like it."

"He won't."

"Why not?"

"…Because, the book portrays Satan in a different light than the Bible does. Father won't like it."

"Maybe he will!"

"He won't. Now, if you don't mind, I'm leaving."

"Wait!"

Kristoph twitched. Didn't he spend enough time here already? It was as if Klavier chained himself to him, like some kind of prison warden who would not let his prisoner leave his sight.

"Umm…Kristoph? Can you do something for me?"

"It depends what it is."

"Can you, uh, sing a song for me?"

Kristoph blinked. That was certainly unexpected.

"Why would I sing? I've never showed any interest before in-"

"That's not true!" Kristoph turned to look at Klavier in surprise. The little boy was clutching at his bed sheets, staring at Kristoph with a determined look on his face. "I remember-when we were little, you used to sing for me. You sang really good too! It was kind like how Father says the angels are supposed to sing-at least, that's what I think. I never heard a real angel before. But anyway, when I was little you used to sing for me to help me go asleep."

"You actually remember that? I stopped when you were three; I didn't think you could remember that far back."

"I do. It's one of my first memories. So…could you, please?"

"No."

"W-what?"

"I said no. I'm not going to make a fool of myself by singing. When you were a baby it was one thing. Even Adelle couldn't get you to go to sleep! But now you're older and don't need me anymore. Good night."

"That's not true," Klavier mumbled. "I still need you…"

Kristoph's gaze softened as Klavier buried his face in his pillow.

"Don't be like that. If you want someone to sing for you, I can always get Adelle. She'll be more than happy to assist you."

"It's not the same," Klavier whispered softly, clutching his pillow to his chest. Kristoph glanced at the wooden clock handing above Klavier's bed. It was ten o'clock. If Klavier stayed up any later, he would have a hard time concentrating in school the next day.

"…Does it really mean that much to you?"

Klavier swiftly raised his head, eyes wide. He nodded as Kristoph gave a small sigh.

"Fine, then. But only this once; I don't want this to become a regular habit, understand?"

Klavier nodded again. Kristoph swallowed before opening his mouth, and began to sing. A calming, slightly melancholic tune filled the air. Klavier watched, mesmerized, as Kristoph sang the tranquil melody of long ago. When he was finished, Klavier stared at him, mouth agape.

"…You know, a bug is going to fly into your mouth if you don't close it."

Klavier snapped his mouth shut, though his wide eyes were still looking at his brother. "I knew you could sing, and I was right! Wow, you really do sound like an angel, Kris."

"Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say that." Kristoph chuckled lightly. "Besides, it was Mother who first sang the song, not me."

"Maybe Mama should become a singer, then!" exclaimed Klavier, proudly.

"I'm not sure about that. I doubt Mother is interested in finding a job, or needs one, for that matter."

"Why not? My friends in school have mothers who work."

"Well," Kristoph began, trying to find how he should explain the faulty social rules of his family. "I don't think Father would like it that much if Mother worked. He's very…traditional, and doesn't think it would be proper if a woman of Mother's social status were to hold a job. Social standing is everything to our parents, after all."

"I don't see why not. If Mama wants to do something, then she should do it!" Kristoph looked down at Klavier, who was smiling widely. The innocence of children was truly an amazing thing.

"I agree, but don't let Father find out. I doubt he'd be pleased. You know, Klavier, before Mother married Father she was going to become a singer."

"Really?" Klavier's eyes widened. "I had no idea! Why didn't she, then? What made her stop?"

For one moment, it was as if the world had stopped moving. Kristoph stood, frozen, looking at the little boy in front of him. Klavier's honest smile seemed to transform into a mocking grin, waiting for 

Kristoph's response. He swallowed before looking down at the ground and clutching his arms with his hands. The whole room seemed be suffocating him, and Kristoph had the urge to bolt out of this hellhole as soon as possible.

"Kris? Kristoph?"

The smothering atmosphere was lifted from the room as abruptly as it came. Klavier was Klavier again, not an imposter who knew more than he should have. The little boy's eyes were looking up at his elder brother with worry instead of scorn. Everything was back to normal.

"Are you okay? You look really sick."

"I'm fine, Klavier. It's just…a headache, that's all. Nothing more. I think it's time you should go to bed." Kristoph moved his hands toward the lamp, and pulled the string. The whole room was now enveloped in a dark blanket. "Do you need me to keep the hall light on?"

"No, I think you're enough light for me. I'll be fine!"

Kristoph wanted to question what Klavier meant by him being "enough light," but Klavier's excited voice interrupted his train of thought. "You know, maybe one day when I'm old enough, I'll become a singer. If Mama and you are good at it, then I should be, too!"

Kristoph laughed quietly and raised his hand, shaking his head. "Wasn't it only last week when you went around proclaiming how you wanted to be a fireman?"

"Well…that was last week, and this is this week. I'm serious about this!"

"I'm sure you are." Kristoph smiled. "Now it's time for you to go to bed. Good night, Klavier."

"Good night, Kris!"

Kristoph nodded, and quietly exited the room. Making his way down the hall, the fourteen-year-old placed two fingers oh his aching forehead. It had to be just a byproduct of all the stress he was feeling. That had to be it.

The sound of soft footsteps jolted Kristoph out of his inner musings. Turning the corner, he came face-to-face with a young blonde woman of thirty. Her silky hair cascaded down her back, adorned with silver hairclips that kept every strand in order. The woman's light blue dress didn't possess a single wrinkle, and her skin was perfectly smooth and soft. Overall, the woman gave off the impression of a porcelain doll as opposed to the mother she was supposed to be.

"Kristoph," Katarina Gavin began, tilting her head to the side. "Did you come from Klavier's room? Do you happen to know if he is asleep?"

"Well, he's…" Kristoph bit his lip. Why was it that talking to his mother was so hard? "Um, the last time I checked he appeared to be sleeping."

"I see." Katarina looked intently at Kristoph, as if truly seeing him for the first time. Feeling her gaze, Kristoph tried to stand up straighter while simultaneously gaining awareness of every little thing that was wrong with him.

Pursing her lips, yet still maintaining that aura of beauty, Katarina gently touched some of Kristoph's golden hair strands and put them behind his hear with her perfectly manicured hands. "Your hair is out of place. Given that it's becoming so long already, I suggest that you try putting it in a braid."

"But then I'll look like-"Kristoph abruptly stopped. A wavy curtain of gold blocked his view of her expression, but the teenage boy had the feeling he knew what she was thinking, for once in his life. Katarina slowly began to move towards Klavier's room. At first Kristoph hesitated, and then decided to follow his mother.

"I merely offered a suggestion. It was by no means a request." Katarina said, not bothering to look behind her. Kristoph bit his lip, trying to search for the right words, before finally asking her what was on his mind.

"Mother, were you and Father in an argument? I thought I heard you two discussing something."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Kristoph wished for more then anything to take them back. Although she did not stop walking, Katarina suddenly became tense, and the air seemed to gold colder and stuffier. She turned her head to look at her son, a tight smile etched on her delicate face.

"There are no problems in this household, Kristoph. I didn't think I had to tell you something so blatantly apparent. The two of use were merely having a discussion. I seemed to have lost something very valuable to me, and that is all."

Kristoph was tempted to ask what the item she lost was, but thought better of it. The last thing he wanted to do was to make her upset with him.

The two finally reached Klavier's room, and Katarina gently pulled the door open. Klavier was sleeping as gently as a cherub, bundled tight in his covers. Katarina gave a sigh of irritation as she tried to maneuver past the toys scattered about the room, muttering something about Adelle. When she reached the sleeping boy, Katarina tenderly placed a smooth hand over his forehead. His mother's eyes softened as an affectionate smile graced her lips. Mesmerized by his mother's facial transformation, Kristoph couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as he watched his little brother sleep peacefully.

_You're lucky you were born at the right time, little brother._

"Why did you come here when he was about to fall asleep?" asked Katarina, gently fingering a few of Klavier's strands of hair.

"He needed some help with homework. Also, he told me of his new career plans." Katarina turned to look at Kristoph in surprise. The magic that was once there had evaporated, leaving Kristoph to face the same distant expression that he always saw for fourteen years of his life.

"Oh? And what could he possibly want to be, now?"

"A singer." Kristoph decided that it would be much wiser to leave out why he decided to become one.

"…Interesting." Katarina put one finger to her lip, as if in deep thought. "It's much better than becoming a fireman, at any rate. And what exactly made him decide on this particular career path?"

"I was discussing what I wanted to be when I was an adult. I listed off the various types of jobs, and when I mentioned the arts, I gave examples of what it meant, such as painting, writing, and singing," he lied, hoping that she would not see through him. "Regardless, I wasn't planning on a career in that sort of field anyway."

"And what do you wish to become?" asked Katarina, making her way past the toys and to the doorframe. Kristoph inwardly cursed. He had no set career path; his father always stressed the importance of doing something that would increase the prestige of the Gavin name as well making himself useful, but Kristoph wasn't sure what that could be.

"I haven't fully decided y-"

"Become a defense attorney."

"What?" Kristoph looked at his mother in surprise. If anything, he would have expected her to say "become a prosecutor," given the fame and power of the renowned Manfred von Karma.

"Become a defense attorney. Not for poor pedestrians, of course, but for wealthy, famous citizens caught in a bit of a scandal. Imagine the prestige of defending an extremely wealthy client from a false accusation! You will then have made an illustrious name for yourself, and, consequently, the family. And if you win a case against Manfred von Karma…" Katarina's lip curled as she eyed her son similar to how cheetah's size up their prey. "Needless to say, the benefits would be immense. You'd finally make a name for yourself, Kristoph."

Kristoph gazed at his mother from behind his glasses. Fame, power, and prestige. Those were the three things the Gavin family cherished above all else. Without them, one was worthless. If becoming a defense attorney would suddenly make him appear useful to his parents, then who was he to complain?

"I'll do it. It sounds like a rather… benevolent thing to do, helping people who can't help themselves."

Katarina gave Kristoph a small, detached smile before passing him, retreating from Klavier's room to go down the hallway. "Of course it is."

After making sure her footsteps could not be heard, Kristoph gently leaned his head on the doorframe and sighed. His eyes fell on Klavier, who was sound asleep, oblivious to Kristoph's mental and emotion turmoil.

_You're so lucky, Klavier. You don't know just how lucky you are._

Kristoph treaded softly towards the sleeping boy, before placing a hand on his messy blond head. Memories of long ago nipped at his mind like crows pecking at a dead carcass. Kristoph's grip tightened as his eyes narrowed, watching the boy sleep with no problems whatsoever. For one brief second it occurred to Kristoph that he could probably kill the boy right now, while he was sleeping.

But he didn't. Kristoph's gaze softened as he watched his little brother breathe tranquilly. As irritating was, Kristoph was still his elder brother, and it was the older sibling's duty to protect the younger one at all times. With one last look, Kristoph closed the door, and exited the room.


	3. Chapter 2

"Almost finished, Master Klavier." The young maid smiled as she finished bandaging the little boy's arm. "There, good as new."

The young boy raised his watery eyes towards the brown-haired woman. "Really, Adelle? When can I take the bandages off, then?"

"You can take them off right now. It's only a scrape, for God's sake."

Klavier and Adelle turned to look at the fourteen-year-old leaning against the wall, scowling. "The only reason you were even in that tree in the first place is because you took _my_ locket and decided to throw it in a tree!"

"I didn't throw it!" exclaimed Klavier, "I was tossing it up in the air and it happened to get caught. All I wanted to do was to see what was inside of it. And I couldn't even do that…"

"Now, now. Master Klavier, it was wrong of you to take something of Master Kristoph's without telling him. And Master Kristoph, Master Klavier did not mean any harm by what he did." Adelle surveyed both the children. "We should just be grateful that the wounds aren't as serious as they could have been."

"I agree completely, Adelle," said another woman's voice. Turning around, Kristoph saw his mother standing in the door frame, with a concerned look on her normally distant face. "Klavier, what happened? Are you feeling all right now?"

"Mama!" Klavier beamed as he ran to embrace the woman around her waist. "I was up in a tree, but then I fell. I had to get bandages, see?" He raised his hands so his mother can see the wrapping.

"My, that does look painful."

"It's not nearly as agonizing as it looks. It's just a scrape, nothing more," muttered Kristoph.

"Nevertheless, it's good for all of us that you're feeling significantly better than you were before. Now Adelle, if I may speak to you for a moment outside?"

The maid looked up at Katarina in surprise, before nodding hurriedly and standing up. "I'd rather not touch the wounds if I were you, Master Klavier. They may start aching a little." Adelle then left the room to talk with Katarina, leaving the two brothers alone. Klavier looked up at Kristoph, eyes watery.

"I'm really sorry, Kris. I saw you looking at that locket the day after you helped me with the multiplication. You looked like you were thinking hard about something so I wanted to see what was so interesting about it."

Kristoph gave an annoyed sigh as he leaned his head against the wall. "Fine. It's over and done with anyway."

"Really, Kris? You're not mad?" Kristoph paused for a moment, and then shook his head. "Yes!" The fourteen-year-old smiled in spite of himself. Then, as if cutting through his momentary bliss, Kristoph heard a cold voice whispering behind the door.

"…I think this farce has gone on for far too long, Adelle. You must have at least some idea of where he could have hid it. I know he gave you keys to every lock in this household."

"I've told you before, Lady Katarina. I do not know what he is planning, or where he placed your trinket. I have looked again and again for it, and every time my endeavors were met with failure."

"I know where it is, Adelle. It's in the North Room, the one on the highest floor of the mansion that he forbids anyone to go into. I would go in myself, only I find myself lacking the key necessary to enter. Is it possible you favor him over me, despite everything we've done and been through?"

"Miss, I cannot betray Master Kristian's trust by giving you this key. Regardless of what our relationship may be, I simply cannot give it away. If I do, I will find myself out of a job."

"You may soon find yourself out of a job sooner than you would like. Do you realize what is at stake here? That man could be planning on doing something to my youngest son. I will not sit by idly and watch that happen."

Kristoph suddenly felt nauseous as he looked at his younger brother. Despite Adelle's warning, Klavier was playing with the bandages.

"I hardly think Master Klavier's safety is an issue in this matter. I highly doubt that Master Kristian would do anything so rash and…sinful."

"He can and he will. It's apparent to both of us that my husband is sick in the head. Pretending this is a perfect family may be fine and well when dealing with the public, but I've grown weary of adhering to his sick little games and rules in my household. Adelle, I strongly urge you to look through the North Room and find that item, for all of our sakes."

After making sure the clicking of Katarina's heels could no longer be heard, Kristoph rushed over to a surprised Klavier's bedside.

"Did you do anything to upset Father, Klavier? Tell me the truth."

"What? I-I didn't do anything, I swear! I haven't even talked to him all week. He's always in that one room, all the way on the top floor."

Kristoph inwardly swore. What could Kristian possibly be doing up there?_ It probably has something to do with Mother's trinket…_

"Umm…Kris, are you going to talk to him about something? I remember what happened last time, and it didn't go too well…I don't want him to be mad again." Klavier trailed off as he looked at the floor. Kristoph sighed and placed his hand on Klavier's head.

"I don't plan on doing anything rash this time. I'm just curious, that's all."

Although he said otherwise, Kristoph was going to do something rash. Something very rash. He was going to retrieve Mother's trinket from the North Room. _Hopefully I'll actually make it out undamaged._

X X X X X X

Getting into the North Room was no easy task. The two biggest challenges Kristoph faced were getting Kristian out of the room for a relatively long period of time, and finding the key needed to enter it.

Getting Kristian out of the room was not as hard as Kristoph had originally anticipated. It was simply a matter of waiting. Kristian Gavin was a very religious man, and always attended church every Sunday for at least four hours. Plenty of time, Kristoph reasoned, to regain his mother's trinket. The key would be a harder task. Adelle always had it with her, so somehow Kristoph needed to find a way for her to take them out of her pocket.

His plan went into motion on Saturday. It was around noon, when Adelle was usually cooking lunch for Klavier and himself. Kristoph put on a smile as he strolled over to Adelle, who was humming cheerfully as she cut the carrots.

"Adelle, do you need any assistance with the food? It just occurred to me that it must be an awful burden for you, cooking for my family all by yourself."

Adelle looked at Kristoph in surprise, before smiling good-naturedly. "It's not a burden for me, Master Kristoph. I've been serving this family since you were born." Her smile faltered as Kristoph desperately tried to change the conversation topic.

"Still, it couldn't help to have another person helping, right?" Kristoph looked around the kitchen, feigning surprise. "You didn't put the vegetables in the water yet."

"Yes, I know. I still need to make the water boil."

"I could bring the pot here if you want. It looks awfully heavy."

"Oh, no, Master Kristoph. I couldn't possibly ask you to strain yourself like that!"

"There's no need to worry, Adelle. I'm stronger than I look." Kristoph walked over to the large metal pot in front of him. He felt incredibly guilty of what he was about to do, not to mention juvenile, but the possibility of Katarina's praise outweighed his morals. Kristoph grabbed the bottom of the immense pot and slowly made his way towards Adelle. On his way, Kristoph pretended to stumble and, in one swift motion, splattered Adelle with the contents of the pot.

"I-I apologize, Adelle!" I really do. "I tripped on something. Do you need to change that outfit?"

Adelle simply stood there, drenched in water, mouth agape, before turning to Kristoph and chuckling. "It's only a little water, Master Kristoph. No harm done. But yes, I do believe that I should change out of these clothes."

If anything, Adelle's reaction made Kristoph feel even worse now than he did before.

_Just_ why _did I have to do something completely ridiculous, not to mention utterly immoral_? _There could have been other ways to get the key, but of course I just_ had _to act absolutely foolish by picking the most _

_elementary way to go about it. Is this trinket so important that I have to stoop to such low levels to get to it?_

As much as he hated to admit it, Kristoph knew the answer. He numbly followed the soaked Adelle up to the bathroom, where she turned to face Kristoph. "I'll only be in here for about ten minutes. We'll finish cooking lunch then."

Kristoph waited until he heard the water running before quietly slipping through the door. Ignoring his nagging conscience, Kristoph rummaged through the pockets of Adelle's discarded apron as quietly as he could. His hopes skyrocketed when he fingered a smooth, cool, jagged, object. Pulling it out as quietly as he could, Kristoph's heart sank when he realized the key he was holding was attached to a ring with over twenty other keys hanging off of it. Kristoph bit his lip. Which key was the one needed to go in the room?

After figuring that the key to the North Room couldn't be used to unlock anything else, Kristoph flipped through the keys, trying to isolate the ones he recognized from the others. One key in particular caught his eye. It was a polished, silver key, like many of the rest, but this one key had a symbol carved into it: a cross. Realizing that this had to be the one used to unlock his father's private room, Kristoph slipped it in his pocket and quickly darted out.

X X X X X X

Sunday came faster than normal. After making sure his father had left, Kristoph quickly made his way up the stairs, feeling extremely nervous. Much to his irritation, Klavier stopped him on his way up the stairs, requesting help on division. Kristoph looked at the large clock standing against the wall. If his father would be gone for four hours, it would hopefully give Kristoph enough time to help Klavier while also allowing the time required to find Katarina's lost item. Though he feared the distraction would take much longer than it should, Kristoph still did not tell him "no". As much as he hated to admit it, being the only one who could help Klavier made Kristoph feel important, like he had some control over his younger brother. As he watched his little brother look at him with eyes full of adoration, Kristoph could not help put feel a hint of pleasure in knowing that he did.

The tutoring session took far longer than Kristoph thought it would. Apparently, Klavier failed to grasp even the basic concepts that they were working on for so long. Kristoph didn't even bother asking Klavier how he managed to forget even the most basic steps, fearing that mindless conversation would take away from the precious time he needed.

After three long, arduous hours, Kristoph was finally ready to go upstairs. As sneakily as he could, Kristoph quietly crept up the many flights of stairs to reach the North Room. Becoming increasingly more nervous with every floor he passed, Kristoph bit his lip, wondering if he should just forget the whole idea and give the key to Katarina.

_No, I need to be the one to give Mother her trinket back. It simply cannot be anyone else._

Kristoph wasn't exactly sure as to why he had to be the one to give Katarina her item back, but the idea of anyone else doing it filled him with anger. After all, Kristoph was the one going through all this trouble.

_It would only make sense that I should get some recognition._

After what seemed like hours of plodding up the stairs, Kristoph finally reached what he thought was the North Room. It was at the very end of the hallway; the only splash of color in a hall of pure white. Gently resting his hand on the smooth, silver doorknob, Kristoph took a deep breath before inwardly admonishing himself. It's just a door. There's no need to get worked up about it. Still, the simple wooden door ignited an ominous feeling in Kristoph as he reached into his pocket to get the key. He scowled when he realized his hands were shaking. Since when was Kristoph Gavin such a coward?

_It's better to just get this over with. _

Kristoph shoved the silver key in the keyhole, and pushed the door open.

The first thing Kristoph noticed was that the room was dark. Very dark. After feeling around for a lamp or switch of some sort, his hands finally rested on a small chain dangling from a lamp. With a small tug, dim, amber light illuminated the room. Kristoph blinked in surprise. The room was a lot smaller than he expected it to be. A black blanket covered a stack of rectangular objects stacked up against the wall. Near the back of the room stood an old mahogany desk with various papers spread out on top it. A golden crucifix was sitting on top of the papers, right in front of a small statue of the Virgin Mary. An easel was placed right by the desk, with its back facing Kristoph. The roomed seemed to emit a tight, suffocating, atmosphere that made Kristoph feel even more uncomfortable than he already was.

_I'm here to find Mother's trinket. Perhaps I should start looking by the desk…_

It suddenly dawned on Kristoph that he had absolutely no idea what the item he was searching for was. He always just assumed that he would recognize it when he found it, but now a sudden feeling of helplessness threatened to take him over.

_I might as well start by the desk. It has to be in one of those drawers._

Kristoph walked over to the desk and pulled on one of the small knobs. Aside from a black pen, the drawer was empty. Kristoph frowned. He tried pulling the next drawer open, and then the next, but to no avail. All the drawers were empty, or had some common, useless item that he was sure did not belong to Katarina. Kristoph sighed in frustration. He was wasting time. He needed the item, and needed it quick. He picked up the golden crucifix from the desk and turned it over, wondering if this was perhaps the trinket she was looking her. To his disappointment, the crucifix had his father's name carved in the back in small letters. As he was about to place the crucifix back on the desk, a name on one of the papers caught his eye and he stopped. Katarina.

Kristoph quickly glanced over the papers scattered chaotically about the desk. Some papers were scripted neatly, while others were written in a messy scrawl. A few pages had words covering nearly every inch of the paper, while others had only a few sentences written on them. From what Kristoph could tell, these pages were part of a journal of some sort. The perfectionist part of his mind wanted to gather all the papers together in one neat pile, but the realist in him told him that it was better to just glance over the papers to receive a hint as to where the trinket was, and then hurry out of there. Kristoph picked up a sheet of paper that was legible, and read it.

_3/25/08_

_7:57 PM_

_Today was a relatively enlightening day, all things considered. This morning, the new pastor gave a particularly stirring sermon regarding the Devil and the many forms he takes. I feel that this sermon was especially relevant to my own life, given the misfortune I seem to have been troubled with. When I returned to the manor, I luckily managed to avoid speaking to the two little insects as well as my wife. I strode up the stairs, as customary, to this very room, where I continued to paint my glorious masterpiece. Although pride can easily lead to temptation by the Devil, I feel that I can safely say that my paintings are the most stunning in all of Germany. The gorgeous mix of yellow and red is simply breathtaking…_

The letter continued to go on like that for the rest of the page. Kristoph threw the letter on the desk in disgust before picking up a shorter, slightly sloppier one.

_3/28/08_

_8: 39_

_Today I find myself in distress, to put it mildly. For the first time in a long time, I heard whispering in this very room, as my father and father's father had before me. I am not quite sure as to the origin of such a voice; however, I can only assume that it is the voice of either God or the Devil. I am more inclined to believe the nature of this apparition is heavenly as opposed to demonic, considering the warning it gave me. The voice instructed me to be wary of my wife, Katarina, as well as my eldest child. Katarina, the voice advised, was looking to undermine my authority in this household. This is simply unacceptable. The boy too is plotting something against me, I am certain. Perhaps he plans to inconvenience me in such a manner similar to how he did all those years ago? I cannot help but wonder if the boy and my wife are working together. It is unlikely, given her attitude towards the boy, which stems from the same source as my own distaste, but I still should not rule out the possibility._

Kristoph gently set the letter down, a small frown escaping on to his face. Although he had a feeling he knew what the inconvenience talked about in the letter was, he didn't recall ever harboring any ill intent towards his father. And what was this about whispering?

He picked up another letter, this one dated the day of his parent's argument. In this letter, the words were written unevenly, as if the hand doing the writing was shaking.

_4/4/08_

_9:31_

_I am absolutely enraged at that horrible, vile woman. Stupid wretch thinks she can go around doing whatever she likes with whomever she likes. Idiotic girl. The same idiotic girl from all those years ago. If she never had that wretched thing inside of her we would not be snared in this pathetic excuse of a marriage. I suppose this is the punishment for committing such a sin with that whelp fourteen years ago. She thinks she can take control from me? I know she wants me dead. That's why I took it from her. I took her little glass bottle and hid it where I know she can't find it. I want her gone as well, but she must suffer for as long as I have to. _

A little glass bottle. That's what he was supposed to be looking for. But where could it be? Kristoph swallowed as he looked at the letter in his hand. He didn't want to believe that the spiteful words written on the paper belonged to his father, but there was no denying it. Kristian Gavin was mentally unwell, and these passages on the paper were proof of that.

Kristoph was about to leave the papers alone and commence the search for the glass bottle, but one crinkled paper in particular caught his eye. The handwriting was near-illegible, as if furiously scrawled upon by a madman. Kristoph tried to make out what he could.

_Date whatever_

_Time now_

_Haha I know exactly how to show that miserable whore not to question my judgment. There's this little boy you see who lives in my house and that woman wants to keep the little insect so I'm going to deal with that little brat once and for all to make her pay for her sins and I have to because God told me too I'm a good man you see. the colors red and yellow will be on the carpet soon just like in the ones under the black blanket._

Kristoph suddenly felt very lightheaded. _This must be some kind of nightmare…_

Only it wasn't. The truth was situated right in plain sight, in the letter in his hands. For some sick and twisted revenge scheme, Kristian was willing to harm Klavier. Klavier, the boy with the wide smile and innocent laugh, the boy who always asked for help from his brother, the boy who climbed trees, hated carrots, and wanted to be a singer. A boy with dreams and aspirations; someone with his whole life ahead of him.

_Someone who Mother loves, despite doing nothing to deserve it._

Kristoph's eyes drifted toward the easel. He walked over to it and moved the object, positioning it where he could see the picture. What he saw left him puzzled. The whole picture was simply red. It was as if Kristian took a paintbrush and covered the entire canvas with one solid color. Upon closer inspection, Kristoph realized that there were small lines of yellow scattered about the painting.

The fourteen-year-old was at a loss as to what the painting could mean. His eyes trailed around the room, hoping to find something that would help him understand. His eyes settled on the black blanket in the corner.

"_the colors red and yellow will be on the carpet soon just like in the ones under the black blanket"…of course. I have to look under that blanket to grasp what's going on._

Kristoph made his way over to the black blanket in the corner of the room. He slowly reached his hand down to grab a fistful of black cloth when a cold, piercing voice made him freeze.

"Well. Of all the sights I expected to see when I returned home, this is, by far, the most astonishing. And here I was always under the assumption that this room was strictly off limits. So what, exactly, prompted your arrival into this room, hmm?"


	4. Chapter 3

Kristoph turned to look at the man standing in the doorframe. Although his voice held a hint of humor in it, there was an undulating coldness that threatened to overtake it. The man's brown hair was pulled together in a loose braid, and his arms were crossed. The fact that he was smiling did nothing to ease Kristoph's growing feeling of nervousness.

"I…" Kristoph tried to search for a convincing excuse, but could come up with none."I was always curious about this room. I just wanted to see for myself what was so enthralling about it."

"I see. And tell me, did the room coincide with your expectations?"

"I was only in here for a few minutes so I'm not really sure," Kristoph lied. Kristian's eyes slowly made their way around the room, as if soaking in every little detail. "The only object of interest I looked at was the painting. That was all."

"And what did you think of it?"

The question surprised Kristoph. "It was very…distinctive. I never saw anything quite like it."

"My paintings are quite brilliant, are they not? It's quite insulting that such beauty must be limited to this quaint little room. However, I am a patient man and will wait for the opportune moment to present such masterpieces to the outside world. Now, we must decide how to deal with this belligerent attitude of yours." Kristian put a finger to his lip as if in deep thought. "I believe I have found a way to quench any rebellious thoughts that may have entered your mind. Come along."

Kristian reached out and grabbed Kristoph's arm, leading him out of the room and into the hallway. His grasp was strong and constricting, making Kristoph feel as though there was nothing he could ever do to escape from it. He tried to catch a glimpse of Kristian's expression, but the light reflecting off his father's glasses prevented him from getting a good look.

"Now, I realize that you are in the bothersome stage of your life known as adolescence, and that seditious thoughts may find themselves leaking through your head, " began Kristian, still holding on to his son. "However, you must realize the sacrilege behind such thoughts and immediately put an end to them. Although you may find that there are ample amounts of second chances to correct your wrongs, I can say with utmost certainty that you will find no such comforts as you age. When you reach adulthood, you will find that errors you make will stay with you for a _long_ time."

Kristoph felt Kristian's harsh grasp tighten, and bit his lip. "Adam and Eve betrayed the trust of the Lord, and they suffered the consequences for such actions. Just as He did, I too expect cooperation."

The two suddenly stopped in front of a small door near the end of the fifth floor hallway. Kristian grabbed the brass handle with his free hand and yanked the door open. The room was small, only slightly bigger in size than the North Room, with black walls and no windows. A large book was placed on a small brown desk with a wooden chair off to the side. Various paintings of religious figures decorated the walls, and a relatively large bookcase was standing against the back of the room next to a 

small fireplace. Kristian motioned for Kristoph to sit in the chair by the desk. He did, and for a moment Kristian stood silent, the smile never leaving his face.

"Tell me. Are you aware of the reason why Hell exists in the first place?" he finally asked.

"I believe it was created by God as a place to send the rebel angels who fought against him," Kristoph responded. He absolutely abhorred this room. The figures on the walls appeared to be looking at him with disdainful, condescending eyes. The heat emitting from the fireplace in addition to the lack of windows gave the room a smothering quality, which Kristoph felt was similar to a child suffocating a baby with a blanket.

"You are absolutely right. And just why is it that He gave those treacherous angels eternal damnation?"

"The angels challenged God's authority."

"Exactly. Their own pride was their undoing, you may say. Are you familiar with the name of the leader of the insurgents?"

"They were led by Lucifer, I suppose."

"Well, you certainly are full of surprises!" Kristian's smile grew even wider. "That is correct. Can you tell me the other alias of Lucifer?"

"…Satan. The Devil."

"Indeed he is. God's authority is incontestable, you see. His rules must be adhered to unreservedly, as do mine as long as I remain chained down to this sinful earth." Kristian's hand fell lightly on Kristoph's shoulder in an almost fatherly, comforting manner. "God's kingdom is a truly wonderful place. Everything in it has been crafted with utmost perfection and attentiveness. That is why His kingdom has no place for sinners and blasphemers such as the rebel angels. Those disobedient wretches needed to have been locked away, isolated from the righteous ones who deserve the breath of life they were given."

Kristian's grip suddenly tightened. Kristoph winced, but tried to not let the searing pain that filled him show. His father's eyes shone with amusement as he leaned down and spoke in a slightly softer voice, without losing his commanding authority. "Kristoph, His kingdom has no place for you. It pains me to admit this, but even I cannot disobey the rules of the Lord. Your birth was shrouded in sin, you see. As you grew older I expected you to realize your sins and resist temptation, but I can see now it was a rather foolish assumption. The world does not need you. No one needs you. It would be best for everyone if you were to remain isolated in a prison of fire and brimstone, much like Lucifer himself, rather than taint the world with your unholy thoughts."

"That can't be true," Kristoph finally said, faintly. He turned his head slightly to look at his father, who still had that artificial smile plastered on his face. After seeing him, he quickly turned his head down, heart rapidly beating. What frightened Kristoph the most about his father was not the authoritative posture, mock smile, or even the cruel and spiteful words, but the _eyes_. Eyes that, behind the amusement and disdain, reflected an almost-animalistic madness in them.

_This man is insane._

"Oh? I will admit I am quite curious as to your justification for this erroneous line of reasoning. So why, exactly, do you believe my interpretation to be false? Do you have any proof to claim otherwise?"

Kristoph looked downcast, refusing to meet with his father's delusional eyes any longer. "I do have proof."

"…come again?"

"I have enough proof to negate your claim, at any rate." Although Kristoph was very tense, he couldn't ignore the feeling of pride that was welling up inside of him. Finally, after all these years, he had a chance to prove his father, who had made his family's life miserable, wrong.

"Well, then!" Kristian's smile just grew even wider. "Don't hold back on my account, by any means. Show me this decisive evidence that you claim is in your possession."

Kristoph took a deep breath. A part of him kept telling him that he was presenting evidence to a lost cause he had no chance of convincing, but the other half of his brain, the side that was desperately yearning for self-aggrandizement, emerged victorious.

"What it essentially boils down to is that nothing I, or anyone else, can say will change your mind. The only proof you will accept is a word higher than your own." Kristoph motioned to the large Bible sitting on the desk. "In the Bible, Deuteronomy 24, I believe, it states that children should not be blamed for sins their parents have committed. Even though you say my birth was shrouded in sin, I was not the one doing the actual sinning. Therefore, I should not be condemned for an action I had no say in."

Kristoph looked at his father with eyes full of resolve. Kristian merely tilted his head, smile never wavering.

"How odd. I cannot recall such a passage ever being mentioned."

_Liar. You basically memorized the entire book. Now just because something in it doesn't agree with your current situation, you just decide to ignore it?_

"Perhaps you just…forgot. If you want to look to check its authenticity, then you can just look in there." Kristoph motioned to the Bible again. He felt a surge of pride as Kristian sat in silence for a moment, a finger to his lip as if in deep thought.

"I don't believe that will be necessary." Kristian kept smiling, eyes fixated on Kristoph. After his initial mental victory, Kristoph's satisfaction began to dissolve into feelings of anxiousness. Why was he just staring at him like that?

"You do raise a startlingly decent point, I will admit," Kristian finally said, looking at his son as one would look at a rare creature instead of a human being. "However, I find you to be lacking decisive evidence."

"…How? You're the one who assumes I'm inherently evil because of the circumstances surrounding my…conception. I just showed you proof that contradicts your belief. How is that not decisive?"

Kristian simply threw his head back and gave a brisk laugh, which echoed throughout the small, dark room. "What you told me was a passage about children. However, what you failed to address was yourself. A child born from sin is not a child at all, but merely a devil in angel's clothing."

"But that's ridiculous! You can't possibly believe-"

Kristoph stopped short. Madness danced in Kristian's eyes, as if relaying a silent message_: "Possibly believe what, Kristoph?"_

There's no use arguing with him, Kristoph numbly noted as he watched his father slightly tilt his head to the side. The man was arrogant, spiteful, mentally insane, and most of all _dangerous_. Although Kristian had never physically hurt him enough to cause serious injury before, Kristoph had no doubt in his mind that if pushed too far, his father would not hesitate to inflict as much pain as he saw fit. The papers in the North Room only reinforced that belief.

"If we're finished with this senseless drivel, I would like to take my leave. To atone for your extreme lapse of judgment, I want you to copy a passage from Isaiah 14. It goes along the lines of _Hell from beneath is moved for thee to meet thee at thy coming…How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer…thou shalt be brought down to hell, to the sides of the pit.'_ I believe it to be quite fitting, given the situation."

"How many times?" asked Kristoph, surprised. That was it?

"Enough for it to finally sink in. Or, when you're unable to write anymore," Kristian smiled seemed to grow even wider. He reached over to the bookshelf and tore a few sheets of paper from a red notebook. Snatching a pencil from the shelf, Kristian placed the items in front of Kristoph. He started to move towards the door, before suddenly stopping, as if a new thought suddenly occurred to him. He leaned his head down towards Kristoph and dropped his voice to a low, commanding whisper.

"During your charming little tirade, I noticed you did not address my other point. The one about you not being needed, of course. Naturally, I do not hold this against you, I just merely feel the need to point that out." Kristian reached out and gently put a few of Kristoph's loose strands of hair behind the boy's ear. "And although you may have some misgivings concerning who really is in charge of this household, I can assure you that the person in charge is indeed myself."

Kristian stood up and slowly walked towards the door, before turning to glance back at Kristoph. "I suggest focusing on that passage. It may prove to be a welcome distraction from the otherwise dismal atmosphere of this room."

Kristoph heard the door behind him slam shut, along with the jingling noise of a key being turned to lock the door. Kristoph gave a loud sigh as he rested his chin on his hand. Although he was felt relieved, not to mention suspicious, about the fact that his punishment merely consisted of copying lines, Kristoph still couldn't quench the feeling of apprehension that was building up inside of him. Kristian's voice and words echoed through Kristoph's head:

"_No one needs you."_

He swallowed and began to methodically copy the Bible passage. It couldn't be true, could it?

_It can't be; Father was only saying that to rile me. I mean, there's no denying that Father is not exactly fond of me, but there are still other people who rely on me, I'm sure. I don't think Mother wants me dead…at least, I certainly hope not. I'm sure Adelle cares somewhat for me, even if I did ruin her dress. She's always been so kind, but does she truly _need_ me? Probably not…but Klavier…yes, Klavier definitely needs me. He always asks for my help, after all. Father was just trying to toy with my mind, again. I have Klavier, my brother. After I finish these stupid lines I'll go back to him. He needs me, after all._

With newfound drive and enthusiasm, Kristoph went back to writing his lines with a slightly more positive attitude. Trying to ignore the haunting figures on the walls and the heat from the fireplace, Kristoph finished the passage and repeated it again. And again. And again.

As the seconds turned to minutes, and the minutes turned to hours, Kristoph's attention slowly began to wane. The stifling air combined with the intense heat was giving Kristoph a painful headache. He looked around the room for a clock, but only saw the painted angels and saints wearing solemn expressions. For some reason, Kristoph grew irritated at the paintings as he continued to scribble the passage down on the piece of paper.

_It's almost as if they're staring at me. _

After what seemed like another hour passed, he buried his head in his hands. He was incredibly tired, and the pounding sensation in his head didn't help either. Kristoph felt a dull, throbbing sensation in his right hand and moved it up to the firelight so he could see it better. His whole hand was red and raw, with faint traces of blood at his fingertips. He blinked, not quite comprehending what was going on. After a few seconds it dawned on him that he wasn't able to notice the pain in his hand from writing because he was too distracted by his headache as well as his determination to write the passage.

Kristoph gave a small sigh of frustration as he cradled his damaged hand. At least six hours had passed since Kristian exited the room. Six hours Kristoph spent writing that stupid passage over and over, with no one coming to check on him.

_That is strange. Surely someone would have stopped by. I've been doing this for six, maybe seven hours. Where is he?_

Kristoph's eyes drifted around the room, once again hoping to spot a clock. His search was to no avail, but Kristoph's eyes landed on something else. Across from the desk was a large painting of what 

appeared to be God. He was pointing angrily at a figure who was absent from the picture frame, making it appear as if God was pointing at him. The small plaque under the painting read, in small letters, "The Banishment of the Immoral."

_The banishment of whom? Adam? Eve? Maybe…Lucifer? It doesn't matter. Either way, I'm stuck here until Father decides to come up again, whenever that may be. Was he trying to prove something to me by having that painting here? Was he attempting to liken this punishment to Lucifer's? That's simply ridiculous. Lucifer supposedly was banished to Hell for eternity, while I'm only here for…._

Kristoph suddenly stopped his inner musings as it suddenly dawned to him just what exactly Kristian was planning on doing.

…_Forever. He doesn't plan on letting me out._ This _is my Hell, and he doesn't plan on letting me ever leave it._

All of a sudden, Kristoph felt extremely lightheaded. Trying to ignore the searing pain in his head and hand, he walked over to the door and gave it a few desperate bangs. Silence. Panic welled up in Kristoph's chest as he fruitlessly tried to pull the doorknob. He didn't want to die; not here, not now! Not when Klavier was out there, all alone, innocent, and unassuming.

_Klavier…_

A sudden wave of horror and nausea overwhelmed the boy. Klavier. Kristoph though of his little brother, trying desperately to find his brother but to no avail. The poor child, who might not even live to see the age of nine.

_Father's trying to kill me, I have no doubt in my mind of that. But what about Klavier? In one of those hideous letters, he said something about dealing with him…does he mean like this? Like giving his son a slow, painful death? He's insane. Completely and totally insane. I need to get out; I need to help Klavier! _My_ Klavier!_

Kristoph gave the door a few more bangs, before realizing how utterly ineffective it was. He was on one of the highest floors in the manor; _of course_ no one was going to hear him.

If possible, the room seemed to become ever hotter as Kristoph leaned his back against the wall and clutched his arms. The various saints and angels depicted on the walls became more distorted, looking more satanic than holy. He shut his eyes, thinking of all the people important in his life.

His mother, Katarina. The woman who he adored, even though she rarely gave him a passing glance.

Adelle. The only person who genuinely cared about both him and his brother growing up.

His father. The man who he absolutely despised, yet could not help but respect.

And his little brother, Klavier. The rambunctious little child who always wore a grin and needed Kristoph more than anything.

_Klavier needs me. I can't die yet. I can't I ca-_

The room finally overtook him, as the boy's eyes slowly shut and the world as he knew it turned black.

--

Author's Note: Wow, what an upsetting chapter. Things eventually get better for Kristoph…or worse, depending on how you look at it.

Thank you everyone who's been reviewing so far. You guys are wonderful!


	5. Chapter 4

Kristoph wasn't sure exactly how long he was unconscious for. It could have been minutes, hours, or even days. When the boy gradually began to stir, the first thing he noticed was the scent of fresh spring air that filled the room.

_Am I…finally out of that room?_

He slowly began to open his eyes, only to be met with blurry, indistinct shapes and colors. Kristoph tried to feel around for his glasses, before touching the cool rims on the nightstand next to him. He put on his glasses and peered around the room, trying to recognize where he was. He was seated on a small white bed in the back of what looked like a guest's room. Various flowers, such as roses and violets, were placed in glass vases under the open windows, which were letting in a fresh spring breeze that made the light blue curtains sway.

As Kristoph observed the contents of the room, a pang of disappointment tugged at his chest. As unlikely as it would have been, Kristoph was hoping that someone would have been standing in the room the moment he woke up. He wasn't sure why this disheartened him as much as it did, but he tried to push the feeling in the back of his mind as he recalled the events that happened before he passed out.

_Father left me to die in that awful room; I know that was his intention. Then why am I alive and here in the first place? Maybe he didn't try to kill me…maybe I'm just losing my mind, like he is. That must be it. I was simply paranoid and imagined what he said. He wouldn't actually try to kill me, right? I am his son, after all._

Feeling slightly more uplifted, and ignoring the nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him he was wrong, Kristoph moved his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. When his feet touched the ground, he felt something hard and solid under the weight of his foot. Quickly changing his position, the boy bent down to pick up the green book near the bed.

_How careless. The person who left this here shouldn't have put it in such a dangerous spot. Wait…this is Klavier's math book, and there are papers inside. He must have been here! He's okay!_

Feelings of happiness and relief rushed over the boy as he sat on the bed and flipped through the pages. He pulled out the notebook papers shoved in the textbook and tried to spot a date on the top of the papers.

_It's not on this one…or this one…and not on this one either. My God, his handwriting is atrocious. How could I have let that slip by me? I normally tell him to erase his papers unless the writing is at least halfway decent. Although I can't recall actually teaching him how to divide fractions…in fact, I'm positive I never did._

Kristoph stared at the paper as the sudden realization dawned on him.

_He knew how to do this all along. He never even needed me in the first place._

The elated emotions Kristoph felt earlier had evaporated, leaving behind a residue of guilt, sorrow, and betrayal. Kristian's cold words from before reverberated throughout Kristoph's mind. He wasn't needed. Klavier knew how to do the problems all along.

A creaking sound was heard as Kristoph turned his head to face the door. As if God was playing some cruel, sick joke on him, Klavier's unruly blonde head peeped through the door. Seeing his elder brother, the small boy's face broke out in a grin as he quickly shut the door and bounded over to his brother's side.

"Kris! You finally woke up! It's about time too! You really had me worried there for a second." Klavier tilted his head as he looked at his older brother, who was staring blankly out the window. "Hey, Kris, are you okay? You seem kind of out of it. Maybe I should ask Adelle to make some medicine or-"

"Klavier, do you really need my help in math? Or is it all just a farce for you?"

"Huh?" Klavier looked at his older brother with a puzzled expression on his face. "I don't know what a farce is, Kris. Is it some kind of game?"

"Yes, it is a game. More specifically, it's like playing charades. Klavier, I saw your homework in the book. You understand math perfectly. Why is it, then, that you constantly came to me every night asking for help?" Kristoph's voice started to rise as Klavier bit his lip and stared at the ground. "Was it simply to inconvenience me all this time?"

"No, that's not it!" Klavier blurted out. "I just-I mean, all I wanted-"

"You wanted what?"

"I just wanted to spend time with you!" Klavier suddenly flushed as she turned to stare at one of the vases away from Kristoph. "It's just that you're always away doing something else. You never want to spend time with me! It's always been like that, for as long as I could remember and I don't know why. I thought that maybe if I force you to hang out with me, then you might want to do it on your own."

Sudden flashbacks of the locket incident raced through Kristoph's mind as he regarded the small boy coolly. This boy, _this eight-year old_, somehow managed to fashion an elaborate scheme that fooled everyone in the household. It was simply unbelievable. Kristoph studied Klavier again, who was looking at him with eyes filled with a mix of apology and determination. A new emotion suddenly began to rise in Kristoph: fear. Although Kristoph had always considered Klavier his competition regarding their mother's affection, Kristoph always felt a certain satisfaction when Klavier would come by him, asking for help or trying to get his attention. It made him feel as though Kristoph finally beat Klavier for once, knowing that he held some power over the younger boy. He liked being depended on, enjoying Klavier's love more than he probably should. Now the balance of power in their relationship was shifting, and Kristoph didn't like it.

Kristoph swallowed as he looked at his younger brother, trying to not let his inner turmoil show. "Regardless, the way you went about it was wrong."

"I know…I'm really sorry. Kris, it's just that-well, I mean…" Klavier took a deep breath and looked Kristoph in the eye with a serious expression on his face. "I love you, Kristoph."

The room was utterly and completely silent. Kristoph merely stared at the boy who was shuffling his feet nervously. As far as he could remember, no one has ever said that to him. For one split second, Kristoph considered embracing Klavier as tightly as he could, forgetting about their parents or their history and just focusing on the pure, innocent little boy standing in front of him.

He didn't. As much as Kristoph wanted to abandon fourteen years of petty, irrational thoughts, the presence of Katarina hung in the room as if tangible. Suddenly Kristoph wished that Klavier was born somewhere else, far away, where he could have had a sibling that was truly fit to be deserving of that love, and a family that deserved his innocence. Most of all, he hated himself.

"I never told you before because in school all the guys say love is for sissies. I've told Mama before, but you're a boy so it's different and-"

Klavier was cut off by Kristoph's worn-out right hand resting on his head. The pain from writing seemed to have vanished as Kristoph gently ran his hands through Klavier's messy blonde strands.

"I understand," he simply stated. Kristoph gave Klavier a small half-smile as the younger boy looked up at his brother with wide eyes. "What day is it?"

Klavier blinked in surprise, not expecting the sudden change in topic. "It's Monday. I told Mama I didn't feel so good, and she let me stay home from school. I feel ok though, so you don't have to worry about getting sick."

"Do you know who brought me in here, and at what time?"

"Ummm, I don't really know. I kind of found this room by accident. We don't usually use it because it's for guests only, and Mama and Father don't like it when people come over. I saw Adelle and she was standing by the bed. She seemed really surprised to see me, and told me not to mention that you were here to anyone. I think she was the one who found you."

_So Adelle knows._ "What about Mother and…Father? Do they know?"

"I don't think so. I haven't seen them since yesterday. I think they're in their room."

"Klavier did…anyone try to harm you?"

"No, no one did. Why would someone try to hurt me? I didn't do anything bad recently!"

Kristoph gave a small sigh of relief. No one tried to hurt Klavier, even after Kristoph read those horrible papers on Kristian's desk.

"Hey, Kris, did you drop something? I see something silver on the bed."

Klavier pointed to a silver object partially covered by the white sheets. Kristoph leaned over and grabbed the small item. Realizing what it was, Kristoph almost laughed. It was the key. The same god-forsaken silver key that got him into this whole mess. Kristoph quietly slipped the key back in his pocket before a low growl interrupted his thoughts.

He turned to look at Klavier, who blushed. "Sorry, I'm just really hungry because I didn't eat breakfast. I was worried about you, so I came here instead. I'm gonna go downstairs and eat something, okay?"

"Wait, Klavier," called Kristoph quickly. Klavier stopped walking towards the door and looked at Kristoph. "You can't tell anyone I'm up, understand? Not even Mama or Adelle."

"But why not?"

"You just can't. Klavier, you have to listen to me carefully. Do you understand?" Klavier nodded. "Don't tell anyone. Also, after you finish eating, I want you to go upstairs and stay there. Don't come out for anything, okay? No matter what you hear, only come downstairs if I tell you to. You can't even listen to Adelle if she tells you to."

"But…" Klavier was about to protest, but saw the look on his brother's face and stopped. "Okay, I won't."

"Good. Now, hurry up and go to your room immediately."

Klavier hurried off, leaving Kristoph alone in the room. He slipped his hand into his pocket and felt the cool edge of the key. After all that's happened, he never thought he would be foolish enough to try to do what he was about to do. But if what Klavier said was true, Kristoph had no time to waste.

X X X X X X

As fast yet subtle as he could, Kristoph quietly slipped out of the guest room and made his way up the stairs. Purposely taking the long way to avoid passing his parent's room, Kristoph climbed his way up the stairs to the top floor. His ascent to the top seemed to be a lot quicker than the first time, which Kristoph assumed was because of the possibility of Klavier being in danger. When he finally reached the wooden door to the North Room, the boy put his ear to the door, listening for any motion. After a few seconds, he hurriedly shoved the key in the lock and pushed the door open. The room was empty. Kristoph pulled on the lamp chain and rushed over to the large black blanket against the wall. Grabbing a fistful of cloth, Kristoph yanked the blanket off from its contents.

It was a pile of paintings. Kristoph gently took the top one and moved towards the lamp to get a better look. When finally saw what was depicted in the painting, Kristoph's heart sank as he flipped the picture over to see if there was anything else on it.

The painting was almost identical to the one positioned on the canvas he saw the day before. Only, instead of small yellow lines scattered across the red background, five small tan ovals of different lengths were present in the picture.

_Once again, this is turning out to be a big waste of time. I should still give the other paintings a look, anyway. I need to know what Father is planning._

Kristoph turned to the pile and picked out another painting. This one had one small, round object in the center, the same color as the ovals from the pervious one. The object would have been a perfect circle, if not for the uneven edges near the top. Overall, the object looked as if someone had sunk his or her teeth into it, eating the other half and leaving what was left.

_This is getting nowhere. Unless I can make a connection between this painting and the others, this whole trip is going to be completely pointless!_

Kristoph put the painting of the uneven circle next to the one with the five tan ovals. Aside from having the same color and same background, the two paintings were completely different. Kristoph looked at the round object again. There were four small indentations on the top of the circle and, on closer inspection, Kristoph realized there was a fifth indention on the lower right side. He looked at the painting of the ovals again. There were five ovals, and five indentions. Could there be a connection? Kristoph leaned over to look at the next painting. On that one, there were many tiny, while triangles and squares littered throughout the same red background. Some of the triangles and squares were pure white, while others had a hint of yellow to them. Kristoph sighed in irritation. White shapes, short yellow lines, and a tan circle and ovals. Although they seemed to be unconnected, Kristoph knew that finding the meanings of them would lead to the answer of this whole mystery.

He looked again at the tan circle, then at the tan ovals, a creeping suspicion entering his mind. Kristoph counted the number of ovals: five. The same number of indentations the circle had. A rush of hope entered him as Kristoph realized he was potentially on to something.

_The tan circle has five indentations, and there are five ovals. The top of the circle looks as if something was ripped out of it so perhaps…yes, of course! If you put the ovals where the indentations are, then it looks exactly like a_ hand. _If those two paintings look like body parts, then maybe the white objects could be teeth. But the yellow lines…hmmm…what body part is yellow?_

Kristoph was absentmindedly twirling a few strands of blonde hair that managed to fall in front of his face. He stopped, mid twirl, as a realization suddenly hit him.

_Of course! The yellow lines are strands of hair! But what does the red have to do with anything? And what do these painting have to do with Klavier?_

_Klavier…._

A sudden feeling of dread hit Kristoph like a tidal wave. Moving towards the other paintings, Kristoph pulled out painting after painting, the lingering feeling of despair intensifying after every one. Each painting had the same red backdrop, with a different shape drawn on it. One was an ear. Another was a rectangular object the size of a small forearm. Thick, pink, squiggles were spread out over another, while curved, white objects of different shapes and sizes decorated another.

_And ear, an arm, organs, bones…_

Kristoph moved a painting of a small boy's sneaker-

_Klavier's sneaker_

-before picking up the final painting. What he saw almost made him throw up.

The painting was of two bright blue eyes in the middle of the sea of red. It was the expression of the eyes above all else that nearly induced physical pain on the eldest Gavin sibling. The eyes reflected pure terror, with hopelessness and despair thrown in as well.

Numbly stacking the paintings up where they were previously, one thought ran nonstop throughout Kristoph's head:

_He's going to kill Klavier_.

He wasn't sure how, or where, or when, but Kristoph knew that Kristian planned on killing Klavier by his own hands. After draping the black sheet over the paintings, Kristoph stood in silence as he tried to comprehend what he just found out.

_Klavier,_ my _Klavier, is going to die. I have to do something to stop him, but how? I'm just a fourteen-year-old kid, and he's a psychotic adult man. There must be something I can do_.

Kristoph suddenly felt very alone. He clutched his arms as he leaned up against the door. He needed to protect Klavier, no matter what the cost. But…why?

_Because he's my brother. Because he loves me, needs me, depends on me._

**He doesn't depend on you. That was a lie.**

_It might have been a lie, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm his brother. It's my obligation to help him no matter what_.

**Just like it is a father's obligation to protect his children?**

_That's different…Klavier's always trusted me; I can't betray his trust now! _

**Why not? **

_Because it's just not right!_

**Right and wrong, light and dark, God and Satan. What may seem to be the clear choice may not be that different from the other. You say you want to help Klavier because it's right, but is that what you really desire? He has been the one who has taken all the attention from your mother that truly belongs to you.**

_I know, but…it doesn't matter. No matter how Mother factors into this, Klavier is my younger brother who has always cherished me. He needs me emotionally, if not for anything else_.

**Perhaps you are the one who needs him instead of the other way around**.

_Maybe. The only thing that matters at this very moment is that I can't let him die. I don't want him to, and I will do anything I have to in order to protect him_.

Ignoring the mental battle raging in his head, Kristoph made his way to the door and rushed through the hallway and down the steps. His head started pounding as he raised his sore hand to his brow. His head was hurting like crazy, but he didn't care. All that mattered now was Klavier.

An outlandish, vague thought entered the back of his mind, slowly making its way to his consciousness. If Kristoph was in any other state of mind, he would have ignored it, but his emotions got the best of him as he grabbed the idea and held on to it. A small smile threatened to form on Kristoph's face as he increased his pace and made his way to the kitchen. What he was thinking of was appalling and dangerous, not to mention completely insane.

_There's no way I can possibly do something like this. I'm practically asking for another death wish. No sane person with morals would ever even think about doing something so atrocious._

A twisted grin finally emerged on Kristoph's face as he entered the deserted kitchen. He was a Gavin after all; since when did morals or sanity matter, anyway?

_I'm going to kill Kristian Gavin._

--

Author's Note: Thank you everyone who's reviewed so far!


	6. Chapter 5

It didn't take that long for Kristoph to find the silver butcher knife. As if placed there by some divine entity, the dangerous tool was resting in plain sight on the cutting board. A wave of euphoria rushed over Kristoph as he held the black handle firmly. He was really going to do it. He was going to finally kill the man that had made his life a living Hell for as long as he could remember, all for the sake of his little brother. The reasonable side of Kristoph's mind argued fervently against this, pleading for other ways of stopping him, or even for more inconspicuous murder methods.

_No, it has to be this way. I need to see the moment he dies._

He wasn't sure why exactly, but all Kristoph knew for certain was that he needed to be the one to take Kristian down with his own two hands. He wanted to see him die with his eyes, and, most of all, he wanted Kristian to know that Kristoph finally bested him.

Kristoph didn't consider technicalities such as where to place the body, how to make sure no one came and saw him in the act, or even what to do when Kristian fought back. All he wanted was to see the miserable man suffer. Kristoph looked at his own image reflecting off the silver blade and blinked. Although he was wearing the same hairstyle, with the same glasses, in the same outfit he usually wore, something felt off. Shrugging it off as paranoia, Kristoph quietly hummed to himself as he shut the kitchen door behind him.

If he took a longer time to inspect his reflection, Kristoph would have realized something was indeed out of place. His eyes, which usually revealed sensibility and intelligence, contained something else entirely.

If Kristoph were to study his reflection even a little bit longer, he would have realized his eyes contained a gleam of insanity exactly like the one man he hated more than anything.

XXXXXX

Kristoph decided that the best place to kill Kristian was in the living room. When he was younger, the boy always though the room symbolized everything about his family. The room was large and pretentious, with silky blue curtains and a gorgeous oriental carpet covering the floor. Upon closer inspection, however, one would have realized the room was not what it seemed. Beyond the flowery decorations, grandiose paintings, and expensive vases, the room held no real substance. There were no family pictures, scattered toys, or handcrafted items that revealed a family even existed in the home. The whole room was essentially a mask; shielding outsiders from the truth that lies within. It was purely for decorative purposes, carefully constructed to draw attention away from the true nature of the family.

Kristoph strolled towards the large, ornate fireplace and leaned on a wooden cabinet next to it. He knew that his father had to come into this room sometime today. The boy eyed the small glass table in the center in the room. A few bottles of expensive wine were placed on it, no doubt set up for tonight. A small smile formed on Kristoph's lips as he recalled the time Klavier thought it was juice and spit it out after one sip. Cleaning it up was a pain, but Kristoph apparently did a good job if Kristian didn't notice. Or perhaps he didn't even care.

Thinking of Klavier made Kristoph feel peaceful and tranquil, momentarily calming the raging, volatile emotions that influenced his thoughts moments ago. In all his years, Kristoph never thought he would become as fond of the boy as he was right now. Closing his eyes temporarily, the elder Gavin brother recalled distant memories of the boy who loved him.

XXXXXX

_It was nighttime. The young boy's mother, father, and maid were all fast asleep, each of their dreams completely different, yet all concerning the new addition in the Gavin household. _

_The eight-year-old quietly crept up the stairs, feeling his way to the baby's bedroom. He frowned as the door creaked open, giving him a view of the small little creature inside the mahogany crib._

_Slowly but surely, the boy made his way to the edge of the crib and peered inside. Like a tiny sleeping cherub, the baby wore an expression of pure contentment and innocence. Hurt and anger ignited in the boy like a piece of wood being thrown in a fire. How could this tiny, fragile little thing win the affections of his mother so easily, while the boy had to work so hard to get even the slightest acknowledgement? Why was the baby the one everybody coddled over, leaving the boy in the shadows, alone and isolated? It simply wasn't fair. He was the one who deserved the praise and attention, not this baby._

_The boy's hands drifted to the boy's head, before resting on the neck. The little thing was so weak and fragile, he could just snap its little neck if he wanted to. That way, there would only be one son for his mother to love. _

_The purple blanket the baby was under shifted slightly, as the tiny little thing's eyes fluttered open. A wide, toothless smile emerged on the baby's face, as it made unintelligible noises as if trying to speak to the older boy. _

_The baby reached out with its plump little hands and gently tugged on one of the boy's fingers. At first the boy hesitated, before his eyes began to soften. It was only a baby; it meant no harm. It would be foolish to hold a grudge over something completely untouched by negative thoughts. _

_Gently giving the baby a light pat on its blonde tuff of hair, the boy sighed softly and left the room._

XXXXXX

"Well, this is certainly a rather unexpected turn of events. I can say with perfect sincerity that I did not expect to find you in this room, Kristoph. Perhaps you wanted a drink and decided to come down here for the best, hmm?"

Although Kristian Gavin spoke in a light and amicable tone, the rest of him told Kristoph otherwise. The older man's fists were clenched underneath his folded arms, and his blue eyes reflected a cold, sharp gaze that made Kristoph feel as if a dagger was piercing into his chest. He tightened his grip on the knife hidden behind his back in an attempt to feel in control. Despite his previous rush of euphoria, Kristoph 

felt as uncertain and fearful as he did yesterday when he was facing Kristian in the North Room. Talking about killing the man was one thing, but actually doing the deed was another.

"Not exactly in the most talkative of moods, I see. Very well. This small talk is beginning to irritate me, so I'd rather we skip the formalities and get to the point of this conversation. Since you appear to be rendered incapable of speech, I will ask the first question: How did you escape from the room?"

Kristoph stared up at the man, realizing just how young and inexperienced he was compared to his father. He needed to get the perfect opportunity to stab the man, but the idea was better in theory than in execution. Kristoph had no idea what that opportunity would be or even look like. Realizing he had to continue the conversation, Kristoph searched his mind for a suitable excuse and found none.

"Perhaps God just didn't want me to die. That was your intention wasn't it? You wanted me to die a slow and painful death in that room."

Kristian tilted his head, smile growing even wider. Kristoph made sure the knife was hidden and took a few tentative steps forward.

"It certainly seems you do have an entity looking after you, as unbelievable as it may be. Although I'm much more inclined to believe you had the Devil on your side. He does look after his kin, it seems."

"You didn't answer my question. I asked if you intended on killing me."

Kristian paused for a moment, staring at his son behind his glasses. Kristoph felt like shivering, but refused to show weakness in front of Kristian. Moving up a few more steps, he clutched the knife behind his back.

"Kristoph, you must realize that every action I take is done in the name of the Lord. If He wishes it, I will grant it. God does not look kindly upon sinners, as you should know. You did copy that passage, correct?"

"But how could you know if that's what God wants?" Much to Kristoph dismay, his emotions were getting the best of him. "Did you hear him speak to you and tell you to do those horrible things?"

"Yes."

A silence fell upon the room. "…What?"

"I was instructed to kill you by the same voice that has provided me with useful advice and suggestions for some time now."

"Does he tell you to make the paintings?" Kristoph swallowed, a sudden wave of nervousness washing over him. "Did he tell you…did he tell you to try to kill Klavier?"

Kristian laughed. It wasn't a cheerful laugh, or mocking laugh, but a laugh that echoed nothing but pure insanity. Kristian took a few strides towards Kristoph, who stood his ground by ignoring the natural urge for him to step back.

"Oh, you saw those, didn't you? They were marvelous, were they not? My personal favorite was the one with the organs. Which was yours?"

"I hated them all. Those were pictures of my little brother, _your son_, dead in an extremely violent manner. Just when were you planning on actually killing him?"

"Oh, Kristoph. Your curiosity knows no bounds, not unlike Adam and Eve." He chuckled cruelly. "I will deal with him when God instructs me to. It will be soon, no doubt. That woman is becoming increasingly more irksome and I must teach her how to behave in front of me. I am the one in charge of this household, after all."

Kristian was now standing right in front of Kristoph, by the glass table. His mind told him to stab him now and get it over with, but Kristoph needed his father to realize one thing before he took such a risk.

"You're insane. Completely and utterly insane. The voices you hear aren't supernatural entities at all; they're just delusions in your own twisted mind. I want you to leave Klavier and Mother alone. They are just innocent pawns in your sick little game!"

Kristoph's father let out another haunting laugh, brining one hand to his head. When he finished, he looked at Kristoph with an expression of mingled disdain and pity. It was the pity that made Kristoph feel even more uncomfortable than he really was; disdain he was used to, but pity was unfamiliar territory for him.

"That woman and boy are hardly innocent, but that is not the issue I wish to discuss with you. You say these voices are not of a higher presence, but to that I must disagree. For generations my ancestors have been gifted with the ability to communicate with the heavenly powers. They have heard the voices and have acted in their names. I was hoping that either you or the small child would have been able to hear them too, but it appears that is not the case."

"I don't want to hear them, if you're any indication of what would happen if-"

Kristoph stopped mid sentence as his eyes grew wide. Kristian grabbed one of the wine bottles and held it over his head, eyes gleaming with insanity. Kristoph only had a split second to run to the side before the bottle collided with the area where he was previously standing. The glass shattered into hundreds of pieces that scattered all over the room, leaving a sticky, watery mess of the dark red liquid on the floor. Kristian held a hand up to cover his face from the shards that ricocheted off the ground, giving Kristoph the opportunity he needed. Ignoring the glass on the ground, Kristoph took the butcher knife and rammed it hard into Kristian's left side.

A haunting, almost inhuman shriek reverberated throughout the room as Kristian doubled over, clutching his wound. Blood oozed out of it, leaving behind a sticky red mess that mixed in well with the wine on the floor. Still holding on to the knife with all of his strength, Kristoph tried to steady his breathing.

_I did it. I actually stabbed Father._

Kristoph looked at the fallen man who was clutching his side and murmuring something to himself. Although every logical part of his brain told him to stay away, Kristoph couldn't help but feel inclined to listen to what Kristian had to say. Whether it was out of a desire to hear his father's dying words or the feelings of guilt that plagued him, Kristoph never knew. All he knew was that hearing the words took priority over anything else at that moment. Kristoph tentatively stepped towards Kristian until he was standing above him. Kristoph swallowed as he looked at his father who was on the ground grabbing his side, looking the other way and still speaking softly.

"Father?" whispered Kristoph. Watching his father on the ground filled Kristoph with an odd mix of pride, fear, and guilt. Still not hearing what Kristian was saying, the boy kneeled down close enough to hear his father's voice.

"Lucifer Lucifer Lucifer Lucifer Lucifer Lucifer Lucifer Lucifer Lucifer Lucifer Lucifer Lucifer-"

In one fluid motion, Kristian grabbed Kristoph's right hand in one hand and grabbed a large shard of glass from the floor with another. The knife fell to the floor with a clatter as Kristian slammed the glass into the back of Kristoph's right hand.

Pain seared through Kristoph's right hand as the boy let out a scream of anguish. Never in his life did Kristoph experience a pain as intense and piercing as this. Vaguely remembering that this was the hand that was sore due to the writing, Kristoph tried to pull it away, but to no avail. Kristian dug farther and farther into Kristoph's hand, rocking the knife back and forth like one would cut a piece of meat, spreading the pain as well as the wound. The once-continuous smile that remained plastered on Kristian's face turned into a snarl that looked almost demonic as he looked at Kristoph's hand in disgust.

"You actually think you can kill me, you horrible little demon? You're just a child of sin, a burden on this family since the beginning! You're absolutely nothing, just some disgusting, filthy riff-raff that managed to make its way into that wench's womb!" snarled Kristian as he continued to slice at Kristoph's hand, ignoring his cries. "My household is absolute! There is absolutely no way something as impure and as sinful as yourself can possibly take it from me! I simply won't accept this, you filthy little wretch. If you plan on making a pact with the Devil, then wear the scar! Show the whole world your sin and treachery, you vile, misbegotten, little-

Kristian was cut off as Kristoph kicked him in his wounded side. Ignoring the fact that his hand was bleeding profusely and he hardly had any feeling in it at all, Kristoph grabbed the knife from the ground and slammed it right into Kristian's chest. Blood spit from the man's mouth as Kristoph kept stabbing the man, again and again with his unfeeling, bloody hand. Every stab he took made Kristoph feel as if he were being dragged farther and farther down a fiery pit of despair, as if he were selling a part of his soul. What frightened him more than anything was the fact that he didn't care. All he wanted was the man that ruined his life gone forever.

For Adelle's sake.

"_Miss, I cannot betray Master Kristian's trust by giving you this key. Regardless of what our relationship may be, I simply cannot give it away. If I do, I will find myself out of a job."_

For Mother's sake.

"_It's apparent to both of us that my husband is sick in the head. Pretending this is a perfect family may be fine and well when dealing with the public, but I've grown weary of adhering to his sick little games and rules in my household."_

And especially for Klavier's sake.

"_I love you, Kristoph."_

Stab.

"_I love you, Kristoph."_

Another stab.

"_I love you, Kristoph."_

_I love you too, Klavier. I'm going to protect you. _

After what seemed like hours, Kristoph's hand finally fell limp as the knife dropped to the ground. Kristoph fell to his knees out of exhaustion as he looked at the bloody mess that once resembled his father sprawled out on the ground. His body was so badly mutilated that Kristoph could barely even tell it was him.

"It's over, Father," whispered Kristoph, exhausted and emotionless. "I'm not the one who isn't needed anymore. You are."

As Kristoph looked at the body, a strange thought crossed his mind.

_I'm the new Master of Gavin Manor now._

It was a strange thought, one that hadn't even occurred to him when he was planning the murder. The more Kristoph dwelled on the fact, the more excited he became.

_I really did it. I killed Father. Mother, Adelle, and Klavier are all safe, and I'm the new head of the manor. I finally beat Kristian Gavin!_

The excitement in his chest soon dimmed when he heard a soft gasping noise coming from the entrance of the living room. Kristoph slowly turned to look around.

Klavier was standing by the entrance, eyes wide and skin pale. Relief swept through Kristoph as he stepped towards his brother. Klavier quickly stepped back, looking at Kristoph, then the body, then Kristoph again. Kristoph took another glance at the body, as if forgetting it was there. He reached out his right hand to Klavier before recoiling it, as another wave of pain swept through him.

"K-Klavier, can you get Adelle? My hand is hurt, and I'm not sure how serious it is."

Klavier kept staring at the body. Kristoph mentally rolled his eyes. The rush of adrenaline was over, and the logical part of Kristoph's brain was taking control yet again. If not for the fact that he was covered in blood and standing over a mutilated body, he could have been passed off as acting like his normal self.

"Oh, that? Well, it's a bit of a long story." It suddenly occurred to Kristoph that he had no idea how to explain the body to Katarina, or anyone for that matter. "Can you just get Adelle?" Klavier said nothing, and merely stared, fear illuminated in his eyes. "Klavier, please listen to me." He took a step forward.

"S-Stay away!" Klavier shouted as he quickly backed up a few steps. Kristoph stopped in surprise. He honestly did not know what was causing Klavier to have such a violent reaction.

"Is it the blood you're afraid of? I can wash it off if you want; it will only take a little while. Or is it the body? I can move him, if it frightens you."

"Is that…Father?" whispered Klavier, motioning to the bloody carcass on the ground. Kristoph silently cursed the man; even in death, he was making his life miserable.

"Well yes, but it's complicated. You're safe now, and that's all that matters."

Klavier finally met Kristoph's gaze. His usually playful eyes reflected pure terror and horror. Tears were gleaming in them, startling Kristoph.

"Why are you crying, Klavier?"

"F-Father…he-he's dead! He's dead on the floor! Why is he dead?"

Klavier's quietly started sobbing, trying to wipe his tears with the sleeve of his shirt. Kristoph felt as if someone had just punched him in the gut. Klavier was treating Kristoph, the person who saved his life, like a common criminal while mourning for the man that tried to kill him. Grief and betrayal washed through Kristoph as he took tentative steps towards the boy.

"Don't come near me!" shouted Klavier, eyes filled with panic. Kristoph merely stared at Klavier, trying to figure out what went wrong. The small boy took a few more steps backwards before sprinting away, leaving loud thuds echoing throughout the halls. Kristoph looked at his hand, which was still bleeding, then at the body.

_Are you happy now? Klavier's reaction was far more painful to me than this stupid hand wound ever will be. How could he possibly mourn for you, the man who tried to kill him? Am I just a criminal to him now? Does his mind change so quickly? Is that what you wanted?_

Kristoph kicked the body in rage, hoping to let some of his anger out on Kristian's carcass. The only thing it succeeded in doing was to make him more upset. Kristoph closed his eyes as he moved his head up towards the ceiling. Right now, Klavier was probably telling Katarina and Adelle the story. They would call the police, and Kristoph would most likely be sent to prison. Strangely enough, the idea of being sent 

to prison for an indefinite amount of time didn't worry him as much as never winning Klavier's love back. Kristoph opened one eye and glared at the body of the man who Kristoph believed was the cause of everything.

"I hate you."

--

Author's Note: Well, that certainly was a rather…violent chapter. I hope you saw the parallels I made between Kristoph and his father, especially Kristian's final speech before he dies. Also, take note of what Kristoph says to his father's body after Kristian dies. Sound familiar?

I'd like to thank everyone who has been reviewing so far. You all have been really great and supportive. And Wayward Crow, I did see your review on the Kink Meme, and I'm glad you liked it so much! Thank you!


	7. Chapter 6

"Well, that's certainly not something I'd expect to hear from one of my son's."

Kristoph slowly turned. In the entrance to the living room stood Katarina, looking presentable and elegant as always. Hey cool eyes surveyed the room before resting on the body, then turning to look at Kristoph. To Kristoph's surprise, she seemed less concerned about the body and more concerned with the broken glass from the scuffle.

"You certainly didn't hesitate to make a mess of things. That is to be expected, of course. You are still a young boy, despite your desire to appear older."

"Did…Klavier tell you to come down here? When he saw me, he…" Kristoph trailed off. He wanted more than anything to gain insight as to what Katarina was thinking. Yet the woman kept her well-perfected mask in place, remaining completely impervious to the scene that greeted her.

"Yes. The poor boy was a complete wreck; it was almost embarrassing, albeit understandable, given the circumstances. I was consulting with Adelle earlier, and we didn't hear the noise that Klavier apparently did. She offered to come down, but I insisted that I must see my husband for myself. For different reasons than she thought, I would imagine."

"I killed him," replied Kristoph dully. Admitting that gave him no satisfaction or pride, just a cold, numb feeling. In the back of Kristoph's mind, he had a faint hope that Katarina would embrace him and tell him everything would be okay, but he knew that there was a higher chance of Kristian getting up from the dead than that. "I knew that he was going to kill Klavier. I saw his paintings in the North Room."

"And just why were you in there? I clearly recall my husband saying it was off limits, although his word hardly holds any significance, anymore." A cruel smile tugged at her lips as she motioned to the body with her perfectly manicured hands.

"I was looking for something." Kristoph decided to tell Katarina everything. What was the point of hiding anything, anymore? Klavier was afraid of him, his father was dead, and his mother would probably hate him, too. "You trinket, actually. I heard you talking with Adelle about it the day Klavier fell from that tree. I thought I could find it up there, but I didn't see anything that looked like a glass."

Kristoph eyed Katarina, expecting her to ask him why he was looking for her item or at least show some form of shock. To his surprise, Katarina simply gave a small smile and rummaged through her expensive white purse before pulling out a miniature glass object.

"Mother, is that a bottle of…_nail polish_?"

"Yes it is. Ariadoney, to be precise. I never could have found it if it wasn't for the distraction you gave that man. I suppose I really should thank you."

Kristoph stared incredulously at the object, feelings of rage and dismay threatening to swallow him.

"That's all? This whole thing was over a bottle of common nail polish? I can't believe this…"

"Ariadoney is hardly considered common, Kristoph. And I believe the reasoning behind my late husband's actions was driven by paranoia rather than a desire to inconvenience me. He appeared to believe that I was harboring poison in this bottle. To his credit, his suspicion was certainly plausible if not probable."

"Did you try to poison him, then?"

"No."

There was a moment of silence.

"…What?"

"No, I did not attempt to take Kristian Gavin's life."

"Then, why?" asked Kristoph, eying the glass bottle with deep contempt. Once regarding the bottle as the cause of everything, Kristoph now knew that the container was misjudged just as he was.

"It was an issue of pride, you see," replied Katarina, flipping some of her blonde locks of hair behind her back. "I wanted the container back because it was mine and he took it. I couldn't have that miserable man think he actually gained an edge over me. You may be young, Kristoph, but one day you will realize the significance of keeping up an appearance, as well as personal pride. What others see is not necessarily the truth, but it is what solidifies your place in the world."

"You planned everything," stated Kristoph numbly, as a feeling of understanding suddenly dawned on him. "You wanted me to hear your conversation with Adelle and try to find the bottle. When I asked you about it, you refused to give me information in order to pique my curiosity. You counted on me being stupid enough to go into the North Room so you could find the bottle yourself." Suddenly feeling very determined as well as furious, Kristoph stared his mother in the eye. "You used people's lives are pawns! I almost died, and so did Klavier! Did you even think of that?"

Katarina sat in silence for a few moments, smile never vanishing from her face. Her eyes seemed to thaw slightly as she shook her head and gave a light sigh.

"I can assure you it was not my intention to have either or you killed. I always had a suspicion that he would try something against Klavier, but I was not sure of the exact date or time. If that man knew I was looking for my bottle, he was likely to have tried when I had my guard down. Luckily, you were the perfect distraction I needed. I did not intend to put your life in any danger, if you must know. It just so happened to turn out that way. There was always the risk, of course, but it was a risk I chose to take."

"So people are just pawns to you," accused Kristoph, voice dripping in bitterness and hurt. Although he was hearing it from Katarina herself, part of him did not want to believe the mother he desired affection from his whole life considered her son's existence nothing but a piece in a game against her husband.

"It is quite strange that you are the one to accuse me of treating people like pieces in a game. Despite my questionable decisions, I truly am fond of Klavier. I do not doubt that you care greatly for him, 

perhaps more than you should. However, beneath your emotions on the surface there are underlying feelings of jealousy and bitterness. You enjoy it when he showers you with adoration and affection, which is understandable I suppose, but it is not beneath you to manipulate those emotions. You're not that different from myself, as much as it pains me to admit. "

Katarina gave Kristoph a faint, sincere smile as Kristoph took in what she just said. She was right. Kristoph loved to bask in the praise, attention, and love his younger brother gave him. By never acting too enthused when dealing with Klavier, Kristoph maintained an aura of aloofness that he felt drew Klavier towards him. Kristoph knew it was cruel of him to act like that, but deep in his heart he felt that he was justified by teaching the boy who always had everything what it was like to be ignored.

"In addition, you killed your father. Not that I hold that against you, of course. In fact, I feel quite pleased. He always was a terrible man and it's very fitting that he died at the feet of the boy he despised for so long. Regardless, you still took care of him in quite a messy and ungraceful way."

"You wanted me to kill him, didn't you? You knew if I saw those paintings I would have reacted the way I did. I don't know how, but you predicted my reaction and the steps I would take. How were you able to know?"

Katarina gave a light, melodious chuckle as she put a smooth hand on Kristoph's shoulder. At first he tensed at the unfamiliar contact, but then gradually relaxed.

"You truly do have the makings of a lawyer. I knew because you are my son. Perhaps I did intend for you to kill him; it hardly matters now. You had your own reasons for plunging that knife into him, and I had my own for guiding you on the path. It is as simple as that. There are other kinds of power in the world; you see. Kristian believed that he could earn respect by fear, intimidation, and overt power. What he failed to realize was that there are different kinds of strength. In all our fourteen years of marriage, I always held control over this family from the background while making him believe he was the one in charge. That fool. In the end, his own paranoia got the best of him." She chuckled bitterly.

Kristoph looked up at his mother with a mix of revulsion, awe, and respect. She was a completely selfish woman who manipulated everything around her to suit her needs. Although Kristoph knew he had every reason to hate the woman in front of him, he couldn't bring himself to feel that way. Perhaps it was a result of fourteen years of yearning for praise, but Kristoph knew he could never truly hate Katarina. On the contrary, the boy found himself admiring the woman for her intelligence, cunning, and complete control over the situation. It was that fact that unnerved him more than anything else at the moment. It went completely against everything Adelle taught him about morals, but what did it matter?

_I know what Mother did was horribly wrong, but in the end she was able to come out on top again. Is that truly how God works? Does He only reward those who have enough intelligence and ambition to achieve their goals, even if they are immoral? Perhaps…determination alone is not enough. Sometimes you have to get your hands dirty if you want to have any chance of success. What a horrible, sick world this is…_

"For all this talk," Katarina began, lifting her hand from Kristoph's shoulder and snapping the boy out of his inner musings. "I never saw one piece of decisive evidence to show that you were the one who killed Kristian Gavin."

"B-But I said I killed him! Even you admitted it!" Kristoph didn't know what game his mother was playing now.

"Really?" Amusement shone in Katarina's bright eyes as she titled her head slightly. "That's strange. All I can recall were statements made by a boy who stumbled upon his father's dead body and was suffering from the aftershock. In fact, I believe the culprit was a robber who came to steal one of our Ming dynasty vases. My late husband happened to be in this room and the robber, panicking, took a knife and stabbed him. You happened to stumble in this room, causing the robber to flee out of fear. Upon seeing Kristian's body, you rushed over to your poor father's side as your mind was corrupted from shock. After hearing the noise from the struggle, Klavier came downstairs and misinterpreted the situation. I see no problem here."

Kristoph blinked, stunned. Was his mother actually trying to protect him? _That can't be it; she has to have a hidden agenda._ "Why are you doing this for me?"

"For you? Well, I suppose it would be more accurate to say that it's for the good of the family. I can only imagine the shame that would come if the new, orphaned head of the Gavin family were to be deemed a murderer by the public, not to mention the negative effects it would have on poor Klavier. "

"Orphaned? Only Father is dead; how can we be orphans?"

Katarina met Kristoph's eyes, and for the first time in all his life Kristoph knew what Katarina was thinking.

_Impossible…_

"But…why? You can't possibly… it's…why, Mother?"

Katarina gave her son a small smile as she turned her head, obscuring her face from his view with her curtain of blonde hair.

"I've grown weary of living this charade. From the moment I married Kristian Gavin I knew that all the aspirations I once had were rendered impossible. I used to dream of becoming a singer, did you know that?" Although Kristoph did know, he shook his head. "Well, I did. Then I made a rather…unwise decision, and was forced into marriage. This house became a prison, and I was its captive."

"But he's dead!" exclaimed Kristoph, gesturing towards Kristian's body. "You can go back to those dreams and start over!"

"It's far too late to do any such thing. I've decided long ago that once the man was dead I would break free from this miserable lifestyle."

"Why did you wait until now? Why are you going to do it when Klavier and I need you the most?"

"Like I said before, I have an image to maintain. I didn't want that horrible man to believe for one second that he triumphed over me. In addition, I did not intend on smudging the image of myself or my family that society has. After a couple days of mourning for my _dear_, _sweet_ husband, I will finally commit the act that is expected of a woman of my social standing. I'll probably use poison; not only will it help retain my beauty, but I can imagine it will be much less painful than some other alternatives. Klavier will be fine; he has you, after all."

Katarina walked over to Kristoph and gently placed her hand on the top of his head in an almost motherly manner. Kristoph closed his eyes, trying to soak in everything about the feeling of Katarina.

_Is maintaining a good image truly this important? Mother was always unhappy in her marriage; I know that. But to do something like this? It's so extreme…but that's not how she feels, is it? She wants to get away from all this, from me and everything I represent, but even so I still don't want that. I know this is childish of me, but I want her to stay…just for a little longer. Please…_

"I know I was never the mother I should have been to you," she murmured softly. "Perhaps that is one of my bigger regrets. However, I still hope that you will remember what I said here, at any rate. Always bear in mind the importance of a good outer image. No matter how artificial or inaccurate it is, that is all other people will have to go by. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have the role of a grieving wife to play."

Kristoph opened his eyes as her hand left his head. He took one last look at Katarina before she left the room, leaving her son to reflect on what was both spoken and unspoken between them. Hearing Katarina's artificial sobs coming from the hallway, Kristoph gave a deep sigh as he looked at the back of his hand. The bleeding had stopped, but a large gash had appeared in its place. Kristoph realized that with proper stitching it would be almost unnoticeable to others, as if nothing ever happened. Almost as if he was the mature and polite Gavin heir as opposed to the lowly murderer he knew he was.

"_Always bear in mind the importance of a good outer image. No matter how artificial or inaccurate it is, that is all other people will have to go by."_

The events that transpired over the past few hours played in Kristoph's head like a video tape. Kneeling down at Kristian's body, Kristoph felt a wet drop land on his damaged hand. It was only after more came did Kristoph realize that, for the first time in many years, he was crying.

--

Author's Note: Awwww….poor kid. To clear up some confusion about the dates: according to Court Records, Apollo Justice takes place in the year 2026. Since Kristoph is 32 in that game, he should be 14 years old in the year 2008, hence the dates in the journal entry.

Everyone who has been reviewing so far has been so kind and supportive! Thanks, everyone!


	8. Chapter 7

The funeral was on Wednesday. A surprisingly large group of people of various significance attended to show their respects, although Kristoph doubted that was the true reason.

_It's just for show. None of these people actually cared about Mother or Father; they're just here to make a good impression_.

Kristoph felt a slight tug on his sleeve and looked down at his younger brother, who was staring at the two coffins with watery eyes. Katarina was in the one to the left, adorned in expensive jewelry and a luxurious white dress. Her blonde hair was perfectly in place, as always, and the make up she wore made her seem like she still had color in her cheeks. Even in death, the woman gave off the image of a porcelain doll to the observers, just as she would have liked. To the right of hers was Kristian's coffin. Unlike Katarina's, Kristian's coffin was closed.

The clicking of boots hitting the marble floor was heard as Kristoph turned to see Adelle, who was decked in a black dress and holding a handkerchief.

"Master Kristoph, can I speak with you for a moment?" asked Adelle, eyes drifting towards Katarina's coffin. Kristoph nodded and turned to walk towards Adelle, only to be stopped by a tug at his hand.

"What is it, Klavier?"

The small boy seemed taken aback, as his gaze fell to his feet. After hearing the story of the imaginary robber, Klavier tried to apologize to Kristoph multiple times. Kristoph knew he should forgive his brother, but the feelings of hurt and betrayal were still fresh in his mind, and he could never bring himself to say "it's okay," as much as he wanted to.

"I just wanted to know when you're going to come back…" he mumbled.

"He will only be away for a short while, Master Klavier," Adelle replied with a smile. Klavier seemed to relax a bit, and then nodded.

"Okay, as long as it's not too long. I don't want to stand here by myself…"

Kristoph left Klavier to follow Adelle, leaving the small boy standing in front of the coffins. After making sure no one would be able to overhear them, Adelle turned to look at Kristoph, eyes shining with sympathy and kindness.

"Master Kristoph, the wills of your two parents were found."

"What did they say?" Kristoph asked, surprised. In all the commotion and turmoil, he never even gave the wills a second thought. Adelle slightly turned her head from Kristoph, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Master Kristian left nothing to either of his sons," she murmured. Kristoph gave a sigh of irritation as he adjusted his glasses. It was not surprising in the least that Kristian would do something like that. Even in death, the man did everything he could to inconvenience the two of them.

"What about Mother's?"

"Well," she started, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. "She left three quarters of her fortune to you, and…one quarter to me."

Kristoph blinked. He knew his mother was fond of Adelle, although it did not always seem that way at times, but to give the maid a quarter of her immense inheritance transcended mere fondness. Realizing the fullness of what Adelle said, Kristoph's eyes widened as he looked at the maid.

"Three quarters goes to me? Are you sure you don't mean Klavier, by any chance?"

"No, I read the will multiple times. Lady Katarina specifically stated that three quarters went to _Kristoph _Gavin," nodded Adelle.

"Why would she possibly give such a large portion to me?'" questioned Kristoph, mostly to himself. Adelle gave Kristoph a sad smile as she lightly sighed.

"Master Kristoph, I was your maid since the day you were born and Lady Katarina's even longer. I acknowledge that she was never as open with her affections the way a mother is expected to be, but you must understand the situation. Every time she looked at you, she remembered her past mistakes and all the goals she never could accomplish. It pained her, but she realized that you and her had many similar qualities. You also have many qualities shared with your father, as well."

"We're not similar at all," insisted Kristoph, refusing to meet his eyes with Adelle's. The maid gave Kristoph another small sigh as she put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"One of these days you may realize that is not entirely the case. However, Lady Katarina believed you did. More similarities than Master Klavier had with any of them, at any rate. Perhaps that is why Lady Katarina gave the young master so much affection; she saw that he was untainted by the chains of the Gavin family, like the ideal child she always wanted but never had."

The two sat in silence for a moment, reflecting on what was just said. "Oh, Master Kristoph! I didn't mean it that way. I just meant that-"

"I understand, Adelle. She was only sixteen when she had me; I can imagine how burdensome it must have been."

"Master Kristoph." Adelle kneeled by the boy so she was eye level with him. "Since before you were born, I have served your mother. She was only a few years younger than me, you see, so I was assigned to be her personal caretaker." Adelle chuckled as her eyes shone with nostalgia. "Lady Katarina was always quite the character. The first day I met her and told her I would be looking out for her, she merely raised her eyebrows and told me that she would not be seen in public with me unless I was wearing "something halfway decent". Although appearances always mattered to her, I was able to see her feelings behind that frosty exterior as well." A sad smile graced Adelle's lips as she gently squeezed Kristoph's shoulder.

"You may find this hard to believe, but Lady Katarina showed compassion, humor, and even weakness at times. Whenever she broke down in tears, and she did, I was always there to comfort her and tell her it was all right. I warned her against Kristian Gavin the first time I saw her consorting with him. She told me that it was merely a tryst, a fling, and nothing more. After she became pregnant with you, her parents forced her into marriage, and her long-time aspirations were over."

"Why are you telling me this?" asked Kristoph. The mental image of Katarina crying or genuinely laughing about something did not compute in Kristoph's mind. According to Adelle, there was a whole new side of his mother that her never knew, and would never get the chance to know.

"Because I want you to realize that there was more to Lady Katarina than just the icy façade she wore."

"Adelle, did you…love my mother?"

The brown-haired maid gave Kristoph a small smile. "Yes. I cared for Lady Katarina more than just a mistress, that is certain. As for what she thought of me, well, that was one of the few things about her I never knew. I like to think that she saw me as more of a friend and companion than a servant, but that may be too optimistic."

"But, why?" asked Kristoph. "She threatened to fire you the day Klavier took the locket you gave me as a present, remember?"

"She would not have," Adelle answered with utmost certainty. "I am used to Lady Katarina's threats. I know for certain that she would not have fired me over something as petty as that."

"Then how could you tell she actually cared for you?"

Adelle gave Kristoph a warm smile as she placed both her hands on his shoulders. "What you will one day realize, Master Kristoph, is that not everyone shows their affections in the same way. You of all people should know this. Although your actions may say otherwise sometimes, you care deeply for your younger brother. You may not show love in the most traditional way, but you still love him."

"I'm not quite sure what I think of Klavier anymore," Kristoph answered honestly.

"Despite the small spat the two of you seem to be having right now, I know that deep down you love him and he loves you. Call it maid's intuition, if you like."

"Umm, Adelle?" Kristoph began. Memories of Klavier brought up something that he had been meaning to ask her for a long time. "How did you know I was in that room?"

"What room, Master Kristoph?"

"The small black one Father put me in after I went in the North Room."

"You actually entered the North Room?" exclaimed Adelle, putting a hand to her mouth in shock. Kristoph blinked, puzzled. Didn't she know? "How were you able to accomplish that?"

"Well, yes, I went in. I took one of the keys you had when I spilled the water on you. I'm really sorry; it was the only way I could think of getting the key on such short notice. If it's any consolation, I felt extremely guilty afterwards."

"I don't want you to feel guilty, Master Kristoph," smiled Adelle, the initial shock wearing off. "I suppose I should have realized that something was off when you tripped; it is usually your younger brother who is the clumsy one. So tell me, what was inside?"

"You don't know?" asked Kristoph, surprised. "You have a key to the room, so I thought you went in there before."

"Master Kristian prohibited me from ever entering that room. The only reason he gave me one in the first place was in case the first key was stolen. He was very reluctant giving me one, too; he never was a trusting person, but I suppose even he listened to logic occasionally."

_The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. If Adelle ever entered the room, she probably would have seen the paintings or the letters and would have told Mother about them. _

"So, what was in the room?" asked Adelle again.

"Just some…paintings. And letters. Nothing of any real significance. It was quite disappointing, actually."

"I never knew that Master Kristian was interested in the arts. What were the paintings of?"

"They were abstract, so I couldn't tell." Kristoph tried to change the topic. "You never did tell me who found me and put me in the guest's room."

"You're absolutely right, Master Kristoph. I apologize for the digression. It was Lady Katarina who found you and brought you to the guest's room."

"M-Mother did?"

"Yes. I didn't know why she was so insistent on putting you in a room rarely anyone enters, or why I was supposed to keep it a secret. But I trusted Lady Katarina's judgment and you appear to be good as new. Except for that scar on your hand, but that was made when you accidentally let it rest on glass when you discovered Master Kristian's body, correct?"

Kristoph touched his scar subconsciously and swallowed.

"Now, we should get going back to Master Klavier. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you," smiled Adelle, standing up.

"Wait, Adelle!"

"Yes?"

"A few days from now, I'm going to be going to America to continue my schooling to become a defense attorney. Klavier's also going away to boarding school. No one will be at home in the manor."

"Well, I suppose I will be awfully lonely. I think I'll be able to manage if the two you write to me, though."

Kristoph bit his lip. This was going to be harder than he thought it would be. "That's not what I mean. Adelle, I don't plan on ever coming back to the manor unless I have to. It has too many…negative memories that I do not wish to dwell on. It pains me to do this, but…" _Why is this so hard?_ "I have to dismiss you."

Adelle blinked, tilting her head to the side. Much to Kristoph's surprise, she didn't seem upset.

"Will you and Master Klavier be able to take care of yourselves?"

"I'm not sure," replied Kristoph, taken aback. "Either way, we're going to have to learn eventually. It might as well be sooner rather than later. If you want, I can always recommend your services to one of the wealthy families attending this funeral."

"That won't be necessary," Adelle chuckled, smiling warmly. "I believe that Lady Katarina gave me just enough money to get by in case something like this was to happen."

"I'm really sorry, but-"

"There's no need to apologize. I can understand perfectly why you would choose to shed those memories. But what is to become of the house, I wonder?"

"Well, I suppose it will just stay there. Admittedly, I haven't given it much thought."

"No matter what you choose, I'm sure you will make the right decision. But, Master Kristoph, there is one other thing I must discuss with you." Adelle's face suddenly grew serious as Kristoph began to feel nervous.

_Does she somehow know about Father? She can't possibly know, can she?_

Panic fluttered around like butterflies in Kristoph's heart as Adelle started to speak. "Master Kristian was slightly…unwell in the head. Lady Katarina once told me that he was born with it, and that it is hereditary."

Kristoph vaguely remembered reading about his grandfather and great-grandfather hearing "the voices" in one of Kristian's letters.

"I'm aware of that. But how does it concern me? The man is dead, after all."

"I mean no offense by this, Master Kristoph," Adelle began, refusing to meet Kristoph's eyes. "But I strongly advise you to speak with a therapist. If your father's sickness is hereditary, then it would be best to deal with any potential problems before they arise."

"Are you saying I'm going to lose my mind, just like my father?" accused Kristoph. Paranoia began to worm its way into Kristoph's mind as he looked at the woman in front of him as if seeing her for the first time.

_Does she know something's wrong with me? Does she know I killed Father? Was she just pretending to care for me all these years, secretly afraid that I'll go crazy just like him?_

"That's not what I'm saying at all. It's just that this time is very stressful for you, and I'm concerned for your safety."

"Then why are you only interested in sending me to see a doctor? Why not Klavier?"

"I think that Klavier could benefit from speaking to a therapist as well. However, you are the one who found the body and saw the robber. I'm afraid that it will have a long-term affect on your mind." Adelle gave Kristoph a warm, sympathetic smile. "I'm not forcing you to do anything you don't want to do. I'm just worried for you, that's all." She rummaged through her black purse to take out a pen and scrap of paper. "I'm going to give you the name and address of a therapist that lives in the area you will be in when you go to America. Please call her when you arrive, for my sake."

Kristoph hesitated, then took the address from Adelle and folded it into his pocket. Giving another look at Adelle's kind, sympathetic eyes, Kristoph could not believe that Adelle had any malicious intent.

_Maybe I really am becoming too paranoid. Adelle would never do anything to hurt me; I don't know what I was thinking before._

"I believe we should get back to Master Klavier now. The poor boy is probably worried sick."

The two of them made their way back to the coffins, where Klavier was standing, looking anxious. Upon seeing Kristoph and Adelle, he rushed over to them and pulled Kristoph's sleeve.

"I thought you weren't going to come back," sniffled Klavier.

"I could never merely abandon you," Kristoph replied honestly. For better or for worse, he was bound to this little boy for as long as one of them kept living.

As Kristoph walked towards his mother's body, he couldn't help but wonder what the real Katarina Gavin was like. Stopping at the edge of the coffin, he peered inside and blinked.

A single strand of hair was out of place.

--

Author's Note: Kind of a boring chapter, but one that is necessary in the long run. It filled in some of the gaps, and focused more on Kristoph's newfound paranoia. Sorry this chapter took a little longer than the others to get up; I'll try to put the next one up faster. And DarkPrincess128, don't worry about it; I figured I needed to clear up that confusion anyway. When I first did the calculations I went "wait, '08? This can't be right." But sure enough, that's what it came out to.

Once again, thank you everyone who has reviewed! All of you have been so nice and amazing so far.


	9. Chapter 8

For a Saturday night, the Berlin airport was surprisingly devoid of people. The few stragglers that were present in the airport always seemed to walk quicker every time they spotted Kristoph. Or, more specifically, the weeping little child who was clutching on to Kristoph in an attempt to prevent him from boarding the plane.

"Klavier, let go. You're making a scene," he muttered as he tried to push the little blonde boy off of him. "Not to mention you're staining my jacket."

"I don't want you to go to America!" Klavier bawled, grabbing Kristoph's waist even tighter. The fourteen-year-old grabbed the sign warning passengers what to do in case of turbulence to regain his balance.

"Well, I'm going, regardless of whether you want me to or not. If you behave yourself in boarding school then I'll send you a postcard."

"I don't want I postcard!" wailed Klavier. "I want you to stay with me! And I don't want to go to boarding school, either!"

"The school you're going to has a prestigious music program. You said you wanted to be a singer, correct?"

"Not if we get split up! I don't understand, Kris. Why can't you just become a defense attorney in Germany? Why do you have to go to America?"

_Because Manfred von Karma studied in America, and Mother would want me to become even more famous than he._

"Because America has an influential, albeit controversial, law system that I am interested in studying."

"We talked about the American legal system in school last week," whimpered Klavier as he looked up at his brother, eyes red from crying. "Did you know that in some states they still have the death penalty? Are you going to make people die, Kris? I don't want you to do something like that, even if they are bad people!"

Kristoph visibly tensed as Klavier's words drifted through his head.

"_Are you going to make people die, Kris?"_

_I already made one person die, what's one more?_

"Kris? Are you okay? You look really pale."

Kristoph glanced down at the younger boy, who was relaxing his grip in favor of staring at Kristoph in worry.

"I'm fine, Klavier. I just have a headache from all your crying. Anyway, it's the prosecutor's job to accuse criminals. I'm going to be a defense attorney, so I'll rescue people instead of killing them."

"That's good. I don't want you to be a killer."

Kristoph almost laughed at this in irony. _Too late, Klavier._

"Not everyone who gets convicted of a crime dies, you know. Like you said before, only certain states have the death penalty and even convicted criminals escape it sometimes."

"Like how?"

"Well, one needs decisive evidence, first of all. Secondly, there are different sentences for different kinds of murders. Certain criminals may get a lighter sentence with some special treatment if they have mental illnesses."

_Like Father._

"So prosecutors aren't the bad guys?"

"Not entirely. The whole concept of what is bad and what is good is entirely subjective, after all."

"Ummm, Kris? What does "subjective" mean?"

Kristoph sighed. "It means it can vary for each person. You do know what vary means, don't you?"

"Yes…"

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a plane to board." Kristoph turned to board his plane. The man standing by the entrance was looking impatient, but Kristoph knew he would not leave without the eldest Gavin sibling.

"W-Wait!"

Kristoph rolled his eyes. Klavier was still grabbing on to his hand.

"What is it now? I already explained why I need to go to America."

"But…but we didn't even say our good-byes yet!"

"Good bye. Now, can you let go of me and let me board the plane?" Kristoph tried to push Klavier off of him, but the boy refused to budge. "I'm beginning to get very irritated. Let go of me, Klavier."

"I'll never leave you!" wailed Klavier. Although Kristoph knew Klavier was saying it in the heat of the moment, he couldn't help but give a sharp laugh at that comment.

"That's strange. I distinctly recall you telling me not to come near you a few days ago."

Klavier froze, Kristoph's jacket still clenched in his fists.

"That was different," he mumbled. "It was before M-Mother told me about the robber."

"Oh? So I suppose if I did murder our father then we would not be having this conversation. It's good to know I'm such an important part of your life."

"That's not it…"

"Really? Well, you certainly fooled me. Maybe I'll get the death penalty and you won't have to worry about me coming near you ever again."

"…Stop it."

"Which method do you think will be more effective: lethal injection or hanging. I'm partial to lethal injection, but hanging does have this certain quality to it…"

"_Stop it!"_

With a surprising amount of force, Klavier gave Kristoph a hard shove. The older boy stumbled back a few steps before looking at the younger boy, who started to sob all over again.

"I-I don't want you to die," wept Klavier, wiping his tears on his purple sleeve. "I-I'm so sorry…I was r-really s-scared and I didn't know what was going on. I d-didn't mean anything bad, honest! Even if y-you really were a m-murderer, I would have helped you escape the cops! Even break out of j-jail."

Krstoph's eyes softened as he pulled his younger brother into a tight embrace. If push came to shove, Kristoph doubted that Klavier would actually follow through with his promises, but he appreciated the sentiment anyway.

"No, I shouldn't have said the things I did," Kristoph murmured quietly, gently stroking Klavier's hair. "I was just so fed up, with the stress from everything that has been going on. I had no right to say those things. But Klavier, you can't break the law just for my benefit. I appreciate your feelings, but you must always put truth and honesty first. You're still young; I don't want you to ever lose your ability to seek out the truth, no matter how painful it may be."

_You have your whole life ahead of you. Since the beginning I was tainted, but you have this innocence that can still persevere. You have a chance to finally escape the chains of the Gavin family and live an honest life without deceit. You're so lucky, Klavier…so, so lucky…_

A cough was heard as the two brothers looked to see the man standing by the plane entrance, looking extremely out of place and awkward, motion to the door of the plane.

"I hate to break this up, kids, but the plane's got to leave in a couple minutes."

Ignoring him, Kristoph brought his lips to his younger brother's forehead. Klavier seemed surprised at first, before closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of his brother's lips.

"No matter what happens to me, no matter what I do or what I say, I will always care for you. Even if it may seem like I don't, there will always be a part of me that wants you safe and alive," whispered Kristoph, stroking his fingers through his brother's blonde strands.

"Same here," murmured Klavier, enjoying Kristoph's touch. "Even if you become a murderer, I'll still love you. You'll still be Kris, after all. I'll do what you say and find the truth, even if it hurts." Klavier wiped his eyes. "Hey, Kris?"

"…Yes?"

"I know what I'm going to be when I grow up."

"I thought you wanted to become I singer," replied Kristoph with a small smile.

"Well, yea, I still want to be that. But I also want to be a prosecutor!"

Kristoph opened his eyes and blinked, out of the momentary trance he was in.

"A…prosecutor? But I'm going to be a defense attorney. Prosecutors are the ones that put criminals behind bars."

"I know. But I'm going to be a good prosecutor who only puts the bad guys in jail. And I won't support killing anyone with the death penalty, because that's mean. I'm going to be a good prosecutor who only looks for the truth, just like you said. Maybe we'll even meet in court sometime!" Klavier's eyes shone with excitement as Kristoph gave a rare, genuine smile.

"Maybe we will, one day. Now, I should get going before the man asks me to get on board again. It's not very courteous of us to stop the plane from moving because I'm not on it."

Klavier gave his brother one long, final hug before yielding. Kristoph gave Klavier a gentle pat on the head before turning around to board the plane. The man near the entrance looked relieved as he quickly hurried Kristoph over to his seat. Glancing out the window, Kristoph saw his little brother waving wildly at the plane. He gave a small wave as the plane began to rumble and lift off in the air.

Kristoph sighed as he looked down at Germany from the air. The memories he had of his country and his experiences in it were so varied that he didn't know whether he was disappointed to see it go or happy to be free from it all.

_There is no way I could ever be "free" from this place, no matter how hard I try. I might have left the manor, but I still have the memories…and the scars_.

Kristoph ran his index finger over the gash on his right hand that was almost invisible because of stitching. No matter how hard he tried to cover it up, he always knew it was there. The scar served as a reminder of Kristoph's willingness to stoop at such low levels to get what the wanted, no matter what the cost. The fact that he was only fourteen and already a murderer made Kristoph feel sick to his stomach. If he killed someone once, what was stopping him from doing it again?

The boy was jolted out of his inner musings by the stewardess who came to ask if he wanted anything to eat or drink. Searching through his pockets to find money for a bottle of water, his hands rested on a small scrap of paper. After paying the stewardess, Kristoph opened up the crinkled scrap and read it. On 

it was the address to a female therapist who lived near Kristoph's new home. Frowning, the boy tossed the scrap into the waste basket under his seat. He didn't need any therapist. It was just Adelle being overly worried, like she sometimes got.

_I will never become like my father, no matter what. He was simply a lunatic who refused to accept change or anything unfamiliar. I'm not like him at all. I'm certainly not insane, and even if it is genetic I'm strong enough to oppose it. _

Kristoph smiled as he watched a flock of birds fly past his window.

_No, I'm definitely not insane. I know that America will finally be the fresh start I need to escape the memories of my father. Although having an unrealistically optimistic outlook is usually Klavier's approach, I can't help but feel that my life will change for the better when I get to America. I know it will._

--

Author's Note: Poor, naïve Kristoph. This is the last part of the "main" story, but there is still the epilogue coming up! Once again, thank you everyone who has been reviewing. You guys are amazing!


	10. Epilogue

"Why did you do it, Kristoph?"

Kristoph gave a small sigh as he looked at the man on the other side of the glass. His visitor was exactly who he thought it would be; no surprise there.

"Why did I do what, Klavier? That's quite a broad topic; I'd appreciate it if you would be more specific."

"Alright, then. Why did you forge the evidence, try to poison a little girl, befriend Herr Wright for all those years, and kill Shadi Enigmar? Is that specific enough for you?"

"Well, it certainly narrows down the possibilities. Unfortunately, what I will say is essentially what was said in court, and I do abhor mindless repetition. I did all those things in order to cover up for the forged evidence. That is all."

"But why did you even get the forged evidence in the first place?" asked Klavier, clearly pained. "You were only going up against me, your own brother. Was it that important for you to beat me?"

Kristoph threw his head back and laughed, sending a chill down Klavier's spine. "Klavier, please. Just what makes you actually believe that you even stood a chance against me in the first place? I had years of experience over you. The only reason why I requested the forging in the first place was if, by some miraculous stroke of luck, your witness would have said something that would have been enough to shed doubt upon my client's innocence. It was merely a safety precaution, nothing more."

"There was still no reason for you to give the evidence to Herr Wright. The only reason you did it was out of petty revenge, ja? That's the same reason why you killed Zak Gramarye," accused Klavier, fists clenched. Kristoph sighed lightly and shook his head.

"I can assure you, I did not ruin Wright's career and murder Shadi Enigmar out of mere jealousy. My pride and social standing was on the line. Shadi Enigmar discarded me like a broken toy. As if I was…not needed, as you so eloquently stated in court. It struck a chord in me, leading to my rather violent reaction. Perhaps I did overreact, but at the time I thought nothing of it. If that is all the information you require from me, I will be going."

"I'm not finished yet," Klavier replied. Kristoph merely tilted his head, smile unwavering.

"And what else could you possibly ask of me? I have already told you everything that would satisfy your interests."

"Have you been taking the prescribed medicine?"

"…"

Because of the light reflecting off Kristoph's glasses, Klavier could not see his brother's expression. After a few moments, Kristoph replied. "How is that any of your concern?"

"I want to know if I can have a reasonable discussion with you, or if you will completely break down like you did in court a month ago."

"The medication is completely unnecessary. I'm most certainly not insane, despite what those psychiatrists may say. They wrongly labeled me as mentally unstable, but I can assure you that is not the case."

"How can you actually say that?" Klavier asked, running his hand through his blonde bangs. "I saw you flip out in court. Kristoph, that wasn't a normal reaction. The way you clutched your arms like that…it reminded me of a straightjacket."

"It came as quite a surprise to me that the authorities would allow a disbarred lawyer to completely change the foundation of the judicial system. Still to this day, I do not understand what was going through their heads." Kristoph chuckled, although there was no humor in it.

"No matter what you say, brother, the fact remains that you are criminally insane. You may hate the label, but it did get you out of the death penalty, not to mention special treatment. If you do what the psychiatrists and the prison officials say, then you may get a reduced sentence. Even though it's obvious you forged the evidence and killed Drew Misham, there was no decisive evidence to convict you. The trial was to determine Vera Misham's innocence or guilt, and that was already decided. Legally, you're only being held here for the murder of Shadi Smith."

Kristoph sat in silence for a few moments, smile unwavering. He looked at his younger brother, who had a look of fierce determination in his eyes.

"I did not say that being labeled mentally unwell had no benefits, only that I found the diagnosis to be inaccurate. But you're not concerned about my thought on the matter, are you? You believe that I am insane, just like our father was."

Klavier clutched his fists so hard that small specks of blood fell on the floor. "Don't try to bring him into this."

"Why not? They say mental illness is hereditary, after all. You might want to be careful; who knows if you'll catch it, too?"

A silence fell over the two men as the both continued to stare at each other, one smiling and the other grimacing.

"Why did you come downstairs, Klavier?" asked Kristoph, finally breaking the silence. Klavier blinked, surprised, before finally realizing what he was referring to.

"I heard a crash come from downstairs. I knew you said not to leave the room, but I was worried for you and came anyway."

"How sweet," said Kristoph, although his expression showed that he thought it was anything but. "You used to care so much for me when we were children. Where exactly is that brotherly love now, hmm? I didn't see you defending me from those accusations when we were in court. Instead, you did not hesitate to tell me I was not needed. So tell me, what happened to that brotherly affection you used to prattle on so much about?"

"Weren't you the one who told me that it was best if I kept my integrity by searching for the truth? I only did what was fair. Vera Misham did not deserve to be convicted, and I was not going to accuse her if her only crime was being too trusting."

"I suppose I should have expected an answer like that from you," sighed Kristoph, becoming bored with the conversation. "Is that all? I really do wish to get back to my cell."

"It's not over. I still want to know why you told me about the forged evidence seven years ago. I know it was to get Herr Wright disbarred, but why did you have to tell me? Why couldn't you have just told the Judge yourself?"

"It would have been awfully suspicious if I somehow managed to know about the evidence, despite not being involved in the case. It was much more suitable for you to be the one to bring the issue up."

"So that's it, then," muttered Klavier, refusing to meet with his brother's eyes. "I was just a pawn to you in your twisted game of revenge. But no…it's not just me…you treat everyone like this, don't you? You really are similar to Father, and it's not just the insanity."

Kristoph's face suddenly grew very dark as he leaned closer towards his brother. "I'm not the only child who takes after him, Klavier." He spat out Klavier's name like a curse word. "You both have the uncanny ability to remain completely apathetic towards the plight of other family members. You both don't care, and you both try to make my life as appalling as it possibly could be!"

"Kristoph, your eyes…"

"Don't accuse me of being like him, while you turn a blind eye to your own flaws. You always try to act so pure and innocent. You always have, and always will. What a joke. I hope you get along with that Wright family now, because you're both such perfect company for one another." Kristoph knew he was giving off the impression of a lunatic, but he didn't care. "You don't need your older brother anymore."

"That's not true," replied Klavier, finally meeting his brother's cold blue eyes. "The Wright family and Herr Justice have been very kind to me recently, but they still cannot mend the gap in my heart where you used to be." Klavier closed his eyes as he looked up towards the ceiling. "Kristoph…nineteen years ago…you killed Father, didn't you?"

Silence reigned as Kristoph took a moment to collect himself. Giving off the same smile he had before, he gave Klavier a small nod in acknowledgement. "Yes, I did. Your initial suspicions were correct. I stabbed the man multiple times, and I enjoyed doing it."

"I always had the feeling that was true, but I didn't want to believe it and forced myself to buy into the whole robber story instead. But…why? What did he do to you?"

For a split second Kristoph considered telling Klavier everything: about the murder plan, the paintings, Katarina's manipulation, Kristoph's near-death experience, and everything else that went on during those years.

But he didn't. Instead, Kristoph gave Klavier the same cryptic smile he's always worn since the Gramarye case seven years ago.

"He inconvenienced me. You know that my father was not exactly fond of me. I merely became fed up and retaliated against him."

"I don't think that's the whole story. You're hiding something," accused Klavier.

"Perhaps. Either way, you're not getting any more information out of me concerning the matter. All I will tell you is that he insisted on insulting me until his very last breath. Calling me riff-raff and preaching on about his absolute power; just who did that man honestly think he was?"

Klavier tried to process this information as Kristoph paused for a moment, a sudden realization occurring to him. He suddenly broke out in hysterical laugher, similar to when Vera Misham was given a "Not Guilty" verdict in the courtroom. The hairs on the back of Klavier's neck stood on end as he searched his mind for something to say to calm his brother. After a few minutes, Kristoph composed himself and made eye contact with Klavier.

"How ironic. The man I hate more than anything is the man I became. Everything comes in full circle, I suppose. Perhaps this is his revenge from in Heaven or Hell or wherever that pathetic excuse for a man is."

"Kristoph," Klavier began. He didn't fully understand what Kristoph was talking about and wanted to know more, but he figured that it would be better to change the topic before Kristoph had to be forcibly taken away. "Two weeks ago I returned to Germany. I talked to Adelle, for the first time in nineteen years."

"Oh?" This was the first time in the whole visit that Klavier saw Kristoph genuinely surprised over something he said. "How is she faring?"

"Pretty good, actually. She looks a lot older, but she is in her fifties, after all. It's rare that Fraulein can keep their youthful looks once they hit their forties, ja?"

"Did you tell her about my current predicament?"

Klavier was quiet for a moment before shaking his head. "Nein, I did not. She asked about you, but I tried to give vague answers. The only information I received was nothing that could help you in this situation."

"What did she tell you about me?"

Klavier hesitated before speaking. "It was something foolish; it has no bearing on this case."

"Regardless, I want to know. What did she tell you?"

Klavier knew there was no escaping this question and told Kristoph the truth. "It was about your locket. It was nineteen years ago, so you might not remember. I was acting like an idiot and it got caught in one of the big trees in our yard."

"I do remember this incident quite clearly. What did she tell you about the locket?"

"She gave it to you as a present. She said that in her hometown, it was customary to put a picture of someone who will accept you no matter what. Whose picture did you put in it?"

Kristoph smiled. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes…"

"I have it here, if you must insist." Kristoph pulled out a golden chain from his pocket, with the locket attached. Klavier was surprised that Kristoph had it after all these years, but decided not to question it. After Kristoph fiddled with it, Klavier heard the chiming sound of the locket being unlocked. Kristoph pushed the locket towards Klavier so he could get a good look at it. After seeing what was in it, Klavier felt his hopes fall.

"It's…empty?"

"Yes."

"But, why? You always used to carry it around, ja? Why would you carry an empty locket?"

"Well," Kristoph began, smiling faintly. "I suppose I never had anyone who fulfilled the requirements."

"…Yes, you did. You chose not to put their picture in."

"Who was it, pray tell?"

"It was me," Klavier said, putting his hand up to the glass. All the emotions of love, care, and affection he felt for his brother threatened to burst from his body. He wanted nothing more than to break the glass and hold tightly on to him like he did all those years ago, forgetting about his brother's misdeeds and manipulation. He knew it was an unrealistic daydream, and Kristoph would probably start screaming for the guards if he tried to pull anything like that, but he still hoped that deep down his brother could love him back. "I loved you unconditionally back then. Hell, even with all the stunts you pulled in the last seven years I still do. I know I shouldn't, and I hate myself for it, but I still do."

"I knew you cared for me back then," sighed Kristoph, a trace of irritation in his voice as he adjusted his glasses, not making eye contact with his brother. "But I was hoping to fill the locket with the picture of someone else. I knew my hopes were in vain, but I refused to have it filled."

Silence fell over the two men as they recalled the memories of their childhood. Klavier finally broke the silence.

"Kristoph, do you…love me?"

Kristoph looked at his brother, not expecting the question but not surprised that he asked it. The older man simply raised his arm and gave a sigh, shaking his head. "Klavier, I believe you already know the answer to that question."

A soft knocking on the door was heard as a red-haired man's head peeped through the door. "Umm…I'm sorry, but Mr. Gavin….can you come with me…please?"

Kristoph almost rolled his eyes in annoyance, realizing it was the same incompetent security guard as before. He stood up to leave, giving one last look at his brother.

"Although my actions may have implied otherwise, this conversation was not as unpleasant as it could have been. Nevertheless, I do not expect nor want to see you coming here again."

There was another moment of tense silence as Klavier processed what his older brother just said.

"So…this is it, then?" Klavier gritted his teeth in frustration as he ran a hand through he blonde bangs, trying to search his mind for something appropriate to say. "You're just going to shut me out of your life like I never even existed?" The prosecutor tried to give a chuckle, which fell flat. "You're acting crazy."

"I believe that has been already established by various sources. Unless, of course, you wish to see an official document verifying your claim? I trust that the prison has quite a few copies of those."

"I can't believe this," muttered Klavier, clenching his fists as he looked at his older brother in anger. "I never understood you, and I don't think I ever will." Klavier reluctantly loosened his grip as he gave a sigh in what could be considered defeat. "The least you could do is give me a reason. Why don't you want me around? Don't tell me your cell is too appealing to leave." He meant it as a joke to relieve his own tension more than anything, but after he said it the possibility that his suggestion was true entered Klavier's mind.

Kristoph adjusted his glasses, glancing at his younger brother with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. "It's far better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven. John Milton first said that in Paradise Lost, I believe." He put a strand of blonde hair behind his hair as he folded his hands on his lap. Even after all these years, the eldest Gavin sibling still was not quite sure what he felt about his brother. Feelings of love and care merged with contempt and envy, leaving behind a residue of confusion and emptiness. But no matter what contradicting thoughts were present in Kristoph's mind, he knew what he had to say.

"I do not expect you to be able to understand me, Klavier, nor do I want you to. My reasoning for this particular desire is simple. You have your own life, no matter how much I disagree with your decisions and lifestyle. You should be preoccupied with it, instead of dwelling on mine. We never were the perfect family Mother pretended we were, and it is far too late to begin such a feat. As much as I, as well as many others, wish it to be so, there is no way to go back and change what has already happened. I have fallen so far from grace I barely recognize myself, but you, _you_, Klavier, still have the chance to redeem yourself. You have the opportunity to stay in Heaven, in Paradise, and live the life Mother would have wanted you to have."

Klavier sat in silence, stunned, as he opened his mouth before closing it. Placing one hand gently on the glass separating them, he opened his mouth again and began to speak. "I know we can't go back. But that doesn't mean we have to cut off contact forever, ja?" He closed his eyes as he gave a deep sigh. "You are a part of my life. I cannot simply erase that and forget it…Kris."

"No…I suppose you can't. But I still do not wish to see you here again, and no amount of protesting by you is going to change that." Both brothers refused to make eye contact with the other, silent words passing between the two as clear as if they were shouting them.

"Umm…" the third voice interrupted the two once again as Ron DeLite looked like he wanted to bolt out of the room. "Mr. Gavin, can we leave now…please?

"Very well." He turned to his brother, who was now looking up at him with glossy eyes. "I believe we said everything here that needs to be said, don't you agree?"

"I…" Klavier vaguely noticed that his voice was cracking as he tried to hold back tears. He inwardly cursed, upset at his lack of control. But, Klavier thought, watching his older brother turn his head away from him, it hardly mattered anymore. "I hate you."

Kristoph gave a sigh as a small, almost sympathetic, smile appeared on his lips. "You and I both know that's not the case." He gently placed his hand up to the glass across from Klavier's, who was staring at his older brother with a mixture of love, anger, sadness, and confusion. "Consider what I said, Klavier. It may be the last advice as a brother I will give you."

The older man turned to exit the visiting room, brushing past the red-haired security guard, and closing the door from his brother forever. Ignoring Ron DeLite's pitiful attempts at small talk, Kristoph glanced at the scar on his right hand and gave a faint, sad, smile.

The Devil seemed to be smiling back at him.

--

Author's Note: Well, that's it. The ending in the final draft was actually very different than what I had originally. When I first wrote this for the Kink Meme, I had a little monologue of Kristoph thinking when he's looking at his scar. When I was rereading it again it just seemed…forced, for lack of a better word, and didn't include everything I wanted it to. I spent a while trying to come up with the "perfect" ending, before deciding that it would just be better to leave his thoughts up for the readers to interpret, as well as what having "the Devil" smiling really means.

In the end, both brothers have conflicting emotions regarding one another that eerily mimicked what they had in their childhood. Klavier still wants to reach out and be with Kristoph, although it is frustrating because of Kristoph's reluctance to accept his love and consider him more than just an annoyance. He also is torn between his moral obligations and his brother who he adores so much. Kristoph treats him like an enemy, mainly stemming from the need to prove himself better than Klavier (another reason why Kristoph went through with the evidence forging: he wanted to beat Klavier badly) and is distrustful of him because he knows Klavier's morality could come in conflict with him. Yet, he still has this obligation to essentially look out for him, as much as he hates to admit it.

I incorporated a lot of religious symbolism in this story, which is pretty strange for me since I'm not even a religious person to begin with. In the game, Vera constantly compared him to an angel or devil, leading to the parallels between Lucifer and Kristoph that I put in the story. I drew the majority of the comparisons from Satan's characterization in Paradise Lost, despite the fact that I _can't stand_ that book. A somewhat more subtle parallel is between Kristian and God, particularly as he is characterized in Paradise Lost. As he states many times, Kristian believes his power to be "absolute" and is quick to condemn and judge anything that goes against him. To Kristoph, he seems nearly omnipotent, and to go against him, in Kristoph's opinion, would be as foolish as defying God. Obviously, they don't parallel exactly as Kristoph _does_ end up successfully rebelling against him and Kristian is more of a bastard, not to mention way more insane, than God is supposed to be.

The whole concept of what makes a Heaven and what makes a Hell is also present in the story. Throughout his childhood, the manor, although outwardly beautiful, was essentially a prison where Kristoph was forced to stay. In his solitary cell he can be alone and undisturbed by the outside world. Another theme in the story was the concept of full circle (hence the title). Kristoph ends up becoming the man he hates, and Klavier ends up taking Kristoph's role as the one who takes him down. The scar given to him by Kristian symbolizes the length's Kristoph is willing to go.

Since all that explaining is over with, I can finally state the most important part of this overly long author's note: I would like to thank all the reviewers who have supported me throughout the story. You have all been so amazing and wonderful, I'm not even sure I can express in words how grateful I am for all of you. Especially DarkPrincess128 and iPicke11, who have reviewed every chapter since the beginning. I don't think there will be a sequel, because I feel that anything more than this would probably be overkill. I won't, however, dismiss the idea of expanding on this, maybe with a oneshot or something like that. I doubt I'll actually go through with it, but the possibility is always there.

Thank you, everyone!


End file.
